


Young Angus Anthology

by InterNutter



Category: the adventure zone
Genre: AU, Anthology, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, References to Drugs, Young Angus Verse, fic requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 27,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: A collection of the Young Angus Verse minifics from Tumbl Into TAZ to minimise frustration.Tags subject to change and IDK if this will ever be finished, but there will be some kind of full fiction from this sometime around half-past eventually [I have a lot of projects, sorry]Based on prompts from my Tumblr (internutter) where my Ask Box is always open. Even to Anons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The marvelous McElboys and their dad own The Adventure Zone in general and the Balance Arc in specific. I just can't keep my sticky little hands off the material.
> 
> ObWarning: These chapters are not in a consistent continuity. In some chapters, Ango is a little humanman. In others, he's half-Elven. In all other things, the storyline is pretty much consistent so just run with whatever headcannon suits you unless otherwise specified. And now the prompt:
> 
> Anonymous asked, "can I request some Taakitz with a dash of small Ango? like, a 4 year old Angus has just been adopted by Taako and Kravitz and today they're having a summer celebration for him, and it's just a family get together, meeting Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry for the first time, getting his first toy ever from Magnus. If you wouldn't mind. Thanks for taking the time to read this!"

There was music. Someone humming. The bed was soft and warm and Angus almost didn’t want to wake up because he was sure it was a dream. That if he opened his eyes, he would be warm because one of the other kids had peed on his bed, which was only ever warm when that happened. The rest of the time, the metal cots of the orphanage were permanently cold, lumpy, and damp.

But there was never any music in the orphanage. And as his bedroom door creaked, bringing the humming closer, Angus opened his eyes and found the blur that was his spectacles. This couldn’t be the orphanage. They made him wait in line for them. And took them away at night. Here, he had a say in when he could see.

The humming person sparkled, and the blur of their head was mostly golden. That meant it had to be Mr Taako. Angus put his glasses on and smiled because he had it exactly right. Mr Taako kept humming as he drew the curtains. “Mornin’ little man. Do you know what today is?”

“Tuesday the fifteenth?”

“Technically correct,” said Mr Taako. “Today’s your party day, Angus. You are now and forever  _officially_ part of the family. Which means that  _you,_ my lovely little human bean,” Mr Taako added a playful boop to Angus’ nose, “get to meet the rest of our strange breed.”

It still seemed impossible. He hadn’t thought anyone could ever want a nerdy little kid like him, who only ever wanted to read in quiet corners, and whom all the other kids picked on. And, now that he had to mention it, was four years old and already knew how to use words like ‘whom’ properly.

“Are you sure they’ll like me, sir?”

There was that look again. Mr Taako had heterochromia, and his mismatched eyes echoed a pain that Angus couldn’t understand. And there was sympathy there, and more than a little sorrow. “Angus. My dude. They are going to love you because  _we_ love you. You’re family. You gotta love family.”

There was a second figure in the doorway. All shades of black and silver. “Dove, something in the kitchen is beeping and I know you told me to stay out of there…” Mr Kravitz looked vaguely worried.

“Fine. You take over with the bathing and dressing then. I’ll rescue the whatever.” Mr Taako swept a casual hand along Angus’ arm as he left, and passed Mr Kravitz by gathering him up in a kiss and a hug and sort of dancing his way through the door. He left pink lipstick on Mr Kravitz’s face, and Mr Kravitz didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Mr Taako rushed off with a, “Later, babe.”

“Love you, babe,” Mr Kravitz called back. He cleared his throat and put on one of his silly voices. “Roight,” he said. “I see we ‘ave ‘ere a desperate case of a small boy still in ‘is pajamjams. I ‘ereby sentence ‘im to a bubble bath followed by a roight proper dressin’ up.”

The voice always made Angus giggle. In fact, it had been the first thing that he had ever dared laugh at.

Mr Kravitz hugged him out of bed and carried him to the bathroom. It had a tub so big that four orphanage kids could easily occupy it, and it was always sparkling. Sparkling clean and just plain sparkling because every surface seemed made to glitter or gleam.

The water was steaming, but Mr Kravitz made certain that it wasn’t too hot, and let Angus pick the scent of the bubbles. Both Mr Kravitz and Mr Taako were always so careful at bath time. They never got soap in his eyes when doing his hair and they were never rough with him.

The nurses at the orphanage always plunged him into tepid, soapy water and gave him a thorough going-over with a scrubbing brush and lye soap. And the towels there were rough, mean things.

Not here. Here, Angus got a big, fluffy towel that could have been a blanket if it wanted to be. And then a bathrobe for the trip back to his room. Where he had license -after putting on his own undies- to pick out the clothes he wanted to wear that day.

His eye lingered on the dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins on it that Mr Taako had picked for him when they were shopping, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to try it on, just yet. He picked a staid and sensible pair of short pants, a button-down shirt, and a sweater-vest. And a bow-tie. He finished the look with a fancy cap with a feather in it. They were good clothes.

Mr Kravitz oversaw the shoes and socks. “Happy with this look?” he said.

“Yes, sir.” He looked exactly like one of the fancy boys he’d only seen from a distance. Walking hand-in-hand with a caregiver or staring out of coaches and bored by the fact that they could actually sit in a coach. “I’m starting to feel like this is really real.”

Mr Kravitz offered his hand, and Angus didn’t mind that his grasp was a little on the chilly side. Angus had never really had a caregiver to hold his hand and rather liked the privilege.

When they got downstairs, there were two Mr Taako’s. Side by side and cooking together as if they had been like that forever. Except  _one_ of him had their eyes around the wrong way. Green and amber instead of amber and green.

And she had a slightly different voice. “Oh wow,” she said. “Koko, I’m stealing your baby.”

“You and Barold are capable of making your own,” said Mr Taako. He had said he had a twin, but hadn’t mentioned how very much alike they looked.

“You must be Ms Lup,” Angus said. “Hello, ma’am.”

“Are you always this formal, kiddo?” asked Ms Lup.

“Yes’m. May I have a cookie, please?”

“One condition,” she juggled one off the cooling rack. “Say the worst word you know.”

“Do  _not_ corrupt my son, Lulu.”

Angus felt like he wanted to cry. He looked up to Mr Kravitz for permission.

“Go on. I’m sure we all know worse ones.”

Angus took a deep breath. Summoned up all his courage. Screwed his eyes shut and said, “Boogerface!”

Which earned him peals of laughter from Ms Lup and one cookie per hand. “You’re adorable. And too cute.” She knelt on the floor and smiled. “I’m your Auntie Lup and you will never,  _ever_ be able to get rid of me.”

Mr Taako said, “Ain’t  _that_ the fuckin’ truth.”

Ms Lup leaped up, “Oh shit, you said fuck!”

Mr Taako countered, “Oh fuck, you said shit!” And both of them laughed.

Mr Kravitz urged Angus out into the garden. “Let’s meet some others before those two expand your vocabulary.”

The first of the ‘others’ that Angus met was not a person, but an enormous dog. Angus turned away from trying to peek back at Mr Taako and Ms Lup to come face to whiffling nose with the biggest dog he had ever seen in his life.

“Johann! Down.”

And like a miracle, the dog was lying on the ground, legs tucked under its body and tail wagging optimistically. There was a big man, bigger than Mr Kravitz, who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win. He had bigger muscles even than Mr Thud, the orderly who dragged off the kids who got way too rowdy.

Angus was clinging tight to Mr Kravitz’s leg and willing himself not to hide.

The giant sat down on the ground and gentled his voice. One hand was on the dog and the other was on his knee. “Hey, little buddy,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared, and I promise I won’t hurt you. My name’s Magnus Burnsides, and I work with Taako from time to time.”

Angus slackened his grip on Mr Kravitz, who was gently patting Angus’ hair and shoulders. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “That’s the biggest dog I ever saw…”

Mr Burnsides didn’t say anything like, “He’s just a puppy,” or, “He’s just a big softie.” What he did say was, “Yeah, I guess he might be. He’s bigger than you, I saw that. But he’s a good dog, and you can come pet him if you want to.”

Angus shook his head.

“Do you want to see the smallest dog ever?” asked Mr Burnsides.

Nod.

Mr Burnsides reached into a bag he had  slung over one shoulder and opened his palm to reveal a ball of fluff that opened beady eyes and yawned. “This is Mitzy. She’s a Pomeranian, and she’s also a puppy. I’m in the middle of being her mom, so she sleeps in the bag to stay warm. In fact, it’s almost time to give her a bottle of milk. Would you like to help?”

Nod.

In ten minutes, he was helping bottle feed the tiniest and fluffiest puppy in the world, and running a careful hand gently along the cloud of her fur. She was softer than the cats that shared this house with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz. And Angus had almost forgotten about being afraid of either Mr Burnsides or Johann, who was leaning his head on Angus’ knee and trying to look pitiful for the hope of sausage.

Mitzy, once she was done having her bottle, had to go back into the bag so she could sleep and grow. Mr Burnsides had a Rock of Heat in there, all wrapped up in a hand-knitted cosy so that Mitzy wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

There were lots of people by the time Mitzy had to go back to the bed in the bag. Most of them were grownups and most of them were very pointedly leaving Angus to his own devices. Not in a mean way, like the people in the orphanage who had too much to do and never enough time. This was…

This was the older Human woman in the blue robes who, between this or that sentence, looked over at Angus to make sure he was okay.

This was the Gnome, his grey hair barely restrained in a series of ties and braids, casually passing by now and again with a look of concern on his face.

This was the older Human man with the dad bod, the glasses, and the mullet; sending covert hand signals to Mr Burnsides that weren’t that covert but still checking that all was well.

This was the old Dwarf restraining his rambunctious, loud, and enthusiastic son with friendly wrestling and tickles, while his daughter attempted to lecture the boy about how he should learn to be careful with ‘fragile people’.

This was Mr Taako asking permission to pick him up and introduce him to everyone.

This was Ms Lup kissing his forehead as she embraced them both in her arms.

This was Mr Kravitz rubbing his back as he smooched Mr Taako.

This was Ms Carey and Ms Killian asking to hold him and ruffling his hair and saying how jealous they were that they didn’t get Angus first and insisting that they were now his Aunts despite obviously not being related to anyone else here.

This was people caring for each other.

_Once upon a time there was a little boy who gave up. He learned fast, and what he learned was that the people around him were too busy to care. They took care of him, that was true, but they did so in a mechanical and functional way. He had food to eat. He was clean. He had clothes and shelter and a place to sleep. But he had no choices, no options, and not a scrap of sympathy. He learned to hide in plain sight. Be unimportant. And though the bullies and the nasty people were still nasty, they sort of gave up too. And the people who took kids to new homes took the babies, and they took the kids who performed well for the visits. They never looked at Angus. Until one did._

Mr Bluejeans was married to Ms Lup. A fact Angus found out as he was watching Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz slow dance to music that only they could hear. Mr Bluejeans was soft and warm and a little awkward, and the most important thing was he was honest.

“You’re lucky Taako found you before Lup did, I think,” he said, apropos of nothing. “Lup’s… I love her, I married her, I became a lich with her, but…”

“She’s bright and loud,” said Angus, and flinched a little.

But Mr Bluejeans laughed. “Yeah. She’s bright and loud and she doesn’t use her middle gears a lot. She’d have scared you, during those first few weeks.”

A little bolder, Angus said, “Everything scared me during those first few weeks.”

Captain Davenport, sitting nearby, said, “You’re allowed to talk about it. If you want to.”

Angus spoke about the first handful of days when Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz learned not to come in to Angus’ space without some form of warning. How they would hum and sing and talk to themselves as they moved around the house so that Angus would know that they weren’t sneaking up on him. He spoke of how they were careful to have his permission to touch him, and how they learned so hard what was right for Angus. And how Taako offered to cook Angus’ favourite and the little boy had cried because he hadn’t known what his favourite food was. And most importantly of all, how he didn’t know at all why two people that in love, and that helpful, and that careful could want an invisible kid like Angus.

“He didn’t tell you?” said his Auntie Lup. “We used to be invisible kids, once. We made a career out of it.”

_Once upon a time there were two kids who only had each other. They were too old to be cute and too young to be that alone. They didn’t have an orphanage and learned to rely on the kindness of strangers. Which wasn’t all that reliable. They learned fast and hard to be friendly and useful and very, very careful around angry people. They learned that the world was harsh and cruel and so many were out to get them simply because they were invisible kids. They worked when they should be playing. They starved when they should be eating. They huddled together for warmth when they should have had shelter and a bed and even someone who took care of them. The one called Lup grew a hard shell and lost her middle gears and fought the world. The one called Taako learned to wheedle and bargain and negotiate and lie his way around all their problems. They knew what being invisible was like._

The biggest shock of the evening was that Angus was taller than Mookie. The rambunctious Dwarven boy was only up to Angus’ shoulders, but he filled the space around him with an aura of indomitable glee for life, the world, and anything in it he could wrestle with. But Mookie also saw the fading bruises from the last people to mishandle Angus ever and he actually quieted down.

“People used t’ hurt’cha. Didn’t they?”

Angus pulled the long sleeves back down and didn’t look at anything.

“It’s okay,” said Mookie in the closest thing he had to a whisper. Which was just a little bit softer than his usual shout. “When ya wanna… Magnus an’ Carey an’ Killian an’ me can show you how to beat up people like that so they never hurt’cha again.”

It was the first time Angus had ever heard a kid refer to adults by their given names.

This was people saying,  _You are not alone._ In every way they knew how.

_Once upon a time, there was a little boy who gave up… And he was found by someone who had been a little boy who once had nothing but one special sister. Together, with all his friends, they all made a family…_

It was a special day, so it was extra long. Mookie wore himself out wrestling Uncle Magnus’ dogs, Uncle Magnus, and Carey and Killian. And now he was curled up with the dozy dogs in a corner that promised to be out of the weather.

Mavis had curled up with a book in one of the cotes tucked in random places in this house.

All the adults were seated in a different one, all in a big circle. They were drinking wine and talking across purposes and laughing together and Angus leaned against Taako while Kravitz draped an arm around his shoulders. Every now and again, one or the other would lean over and they would kiss.

Angus had never stayed up before, and he felt safe enough to deny being tired. Despite blinking for very, very, very long times. Until he had one blink between that night and the next morning.

He woke up in someone’s arms. He woke up to the sound of purring. Purring that came from Taako and at least three of the household cats, who were arranged on both him  _and_ Taako and somehow most of the gigantic cote they were still in. There was a fluffy blanket over them both.

Angus felt a moment of panic because he was no longer wearing his glasses, but the instant he moved, he felt them under his pillow.

Kravitz was singing an early morning singing song that contained a lot of ‘la’s and ‘low’s and sounded happy.

Angus cleaned his glasses on his shirttails and attempted to wriggle free of Taako, who mumbled an incomprehensible complaint and gripped a little tighter. All unthinking, he said, “Papa, let me up? I need to go pee.”

Taako said, “Mrmblmrf,” but let him go.

Angus found his shoes in the cote, but didn’t know how to do the laces without Kravitz’s help, so he picked them up and attempted to tippy-toe at least to the nearest bathroom.

This old house had once belonged to Taako’s grandfather. Some bathrooms had been modernised but most of them were still old-style garderobes that were a simple pit that lead down to the shaped tree’s roots. This, thankfully, was one with a proper porcelain throne in there.

Angus was rightfully scared of the garderobes.

As he emerged to solve the problem of where to wash his hands, Kravitz spotted him and switched to speaking. “Good morning, starshine. I’ve made some scrambled eggs. You hungry for that?”

“Yes please,” he said. “But I gotta wash my hands. Where–?”

“I’ll let you use the kitchen sink,” he nodded towards it. “Remember the soap.”

In a house where every room that had water also had at least fifteen different kinds of soap? Hard to forget. Angus picked the one that smelled like limes and lathered extensively.

Kravitz helped him dry off and assisted in sitting him on one of the tall kitchen stools.

The eggs were big and fluffy and perfect, and though Angus could choose between a dazzling array of condiments, he stuck with salt. At least for today.

And all unthinking, Angus said, “Thanks, Dad.”

Taako came stumbling into the room. Yesterday’s sparkling clothes all rumpled and his golden hair askew. “I had a wonderful dream,” he yawned. “That our beautiful little boy called me ‘Papa’.”

The way he said that made Angus brave enough to say, “I did call you ‘papa’. Is… that okay?”

Taako wrapped him up in a hug. Smooched his cheek. “Darling, it’s the absolute best.”

Angus ate his eggs and watched as his parents devolved from cleaning the kitchen to slow-dancing to music only they could hear. Everyone else had gone to their respective homes, but Angus knew they would be back. All at once or one at a time, they would be back.

He had a family, now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, there's a post where this person dries catnip, and he comes home to find all the cats in his house stoned out of his mind. Well, I was thinking that since elves are so cat like, imagine if Merle had left some sort of root to dry and as a result, accidentally, our half elven boy ( I sometimes see him as an elf, or half sometimes not, but in this case yes) just stoned out of his mind eyes wide ears straight up. could be cute. if you don't mind, have a good day

Taako, finally taking his honeymoon, had left Angus with Magnus. This was the sane and sensible thing to do because literally everyone else was busy except Merle. And nobody with any sense in their noggins left kids alone with Merle. He was, without a doubt, the world’s worst babysitter.

Then Magnus had had a dog emergency and, rather than traumatise a six-year-old boy[1] with a lot of big, loud dogs… went to the only port in the metaphorical storm.

Merle.

The good news was that Merle had nothing further planned than a little gardening[2] and beach play with his own kids. The bad news, naturally, was that this was  _Merle._ He had a laissez-faire attitude to child-rearing at the best of times and tended to treat kids like slightly incompetent adults who just needed a few more experience points from the school of hard knocks.

“And if you go near any plants, keep it PG or I swear to Jeffandrew…”

“So… violent and juicy mutilation is in, but sex is out,” said Merle.

“What? No! Don’t do any of that shit. Merle… Pan-damnit… You know Angus is a little… okay, he needs  _gentleness._ Got it?”

“Ah, he needs a little toughening up, right kiddo?”

“Ms Carey and Ms Killian have been teaching me how to defend myself, sirs,” said Angus. “Last time, I tossed Ms Killian five feet.”

Magnus said, “If you make him cry, Taako will literally kill you. If you traumatise him, Taako will literally kill you. If you–”

“I get it, I get it. Relax. We’re all keeping our clothes on. Gimmie the kid. He’ll be fine.”

Magnus had his doubts, but he also had twenty rescued fighting dogs to re-train and pacify. “No adventuring.”

“No adventuring,” sighed Merle.

* * *

 

The first thing Angus noticed about Merle’s home was how everything was far more convenient for someone of his height. Well. Apart from bumping into the odd light fixture.

Small wonder that the family chose to gather in Chesney’s, which was more… open plan. Open to the sky, open to the beach air, open enough for a gargantuan to sit and quaff if they so wished…

This place had a different aura. It had the closed-in safe feeling of one of Papa’s cuddle cotes, but the organic coziness of an underground burrow. And yet, thanks to skylights and assorted glowing things, there was plenty of light. No scary shadows to haunt Angus’ active imagination.

And green things literally  _everywhere._ Potted plants. Hanging plants. Plants in sconces. Plants hanging off the walls. If it wasn’t covered in leaves, it was furniture. There was even a carpet of soft moss on the floor.

“It’s like this,” said Merle, “It’s soft, it’s used to getting walked on, and I don’t need to vacuum. It’s win-win.”

Angus got to bunk with Mookie, and set his little suitcase on the empty bed. After that, it was out into the jungle that Merle called a garden.

“Aah, would ya look at that,” he cooed. “The Dreamroot is flowering.”

They looked relatively unattractive. Five upright stalks attached to five small and boring flowers, almost lost in the larger handspan-diameter leaves.

“Dreamroot, sir?”

“It’s a herb. Got me a lot of herbs growing here. This little fella…” he tickled a leaf, coughed, and held his hands behind his back. “Well, it’s used by lots of folks as a sleep aid. Deep sleep, restful dreams… something about Elves, I forget the rest of the mnemonic.” He shrugged. “My stores are low, so you can help me prep this baby for the potion pot.”

The flower smelled… very nice. It made Angus feel happy, so he bent over to sniff it a lot as he helped Merle extract as much of the thick, tuberous root as possible.

“Don’t mind that the thin little hairs snap off, it’s okay. That’s one of the ways that it spreads. Those roots send up new shoots, and they become new Dreamroot plants. It’s all part of the wonders of nature.”

“The PG wonders of nature,” said Angus, who was feeling giggly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“What does PG stand for?”

Merle didn’t answer that, but got him and Mavis inside for some prep work. The leaves, flowers and stems were all cut off and hung upside-down, but the peel had to come off the root and the rest of it had to be sliced thinly so it could dry properly. Which meant running pieces of it through the mandoline and into a bowl of water.

Angus didn’t feel it when he cut himself. Not even when Mavis washed it, patted it dry, and cast Cure Wounds. He just thought it was so funny.

Mavis said, “Maybe you should go outside to play with Mookie for a while.”

That was a great idea.

He charged outside and tackled Mookie and showed him some moves and splashed around in the water and chased birds and wrestled with Mookie and chased birds and splashed around in the water and ran up and down the beach and around the house and through all the hallways and wrestled with Mookie and made a lot of noise and the drying cupboard smelled  _so nice_ and he felt so good about the world and he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed…

The mnemonic Merle forgot went,  _Deep sleep, restful dreams, but give to Elves to make them scream._

* * *

 

“On the plus side, he’s quiet now.”

“Fuck you, Merle, he’s stoned out of his little gourd. You gave him  _drugs,_ Merle.”

“Not intentionally!”

Angus, clutched tight in Taako’s arms, was drooling a little. His body was limp, but his eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. His ears were pointed straight up and vibrating slightly.

“Meeerrrrrrlllle…” Taako had only caught enough Dreamroot fumes for the time it took to literally drag his son out of the airing cupboard. If he was up to snuff, he would have been a fatal exposure for the Dwarven Cleric. But for now… he was kind’a sloppy. “You don’t- you don’t- you don’t… yoooo do NOT give li’l kids drugs, Merle. ‘S a bad thing. ‘S a ver’ bad thing.”

“Even accidentally, this kind of thing looks bad,” said Kravitz. “And  _how_ could you forget a  _mnemonic?_ They’re designed to be remembered, Merle!”

Merle had the decency to look embarrassed. “Did a little pipeweed before Magnus came over.”

“MERLE!”

“It’s for my sciatica!”

“Oh gods,” sighed Kravitz. “How the hell am I supposed to get them sober?”

“Krav,” said Taako. “Hey, Krav…”

“They stink of Dreamroot…”

“Hey. Hey. Hey, Krav. Krav. Kravvie…”

“They’re gonna be stoned all the way home…”

“Kravitz-darling…”

Sigh. “Yes, darling?”

“Our baby smells  _nice.”_

Which was the fifth time that Taako had come to this revelation. “Yes, Dove. He smells so very nice. But we have to get home and wash it off and give him some nicer smells, okay?”

“I’m stoned, aren’t I?”

“Yes, love. You’re very stoned.”

Taako looked stricken. “Are you mad at me, Bone Daddy?”

“No, I’m mad at Merle. He’s far more convenient.”

“Oooohhh… let’s be mad at Merle together,” Taako whispered.

Kravitz enlisted Barry’s help to get them both home, since he was also immune to Dreamroot fumes. Barry took Taako and Kravitz took Angus, both by way of Reaper portals to Casa de Taako. Where both Elf an half-Elf could be decontaminated in relative peace.

Taako’s final words to Merle that day were, “Hey. Fuck you! Strong letter t’ follow.”

They decided to take their  _next_ honeymoon with Angus in tow. It was the least amount of trouble that way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] In this AU, Angus is younger. You can safely posit that this follows from the 4YO Angus acknowledging his adoption story. Only this time, he’s half-elven. Same story, different ears, if you will.
> 
> [2] Threatened, multiple times, on pain of pain, to keep it PG.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> on the same vein as half elf Angus, being adopted by Kravitz and Taako, may I request Ango going through his first ( or second) Luume? ( whether or not he's with Agatha, or even around that age is up to you) Thank you for taking the time to read this!
> 
> [AN: I technically got this prompt twice, so I'll be documenting the Second Luume in a few]

[AN: Found it! Things be FUBAR’ed so this is the real one. I need to think about this one because I promised my  _Tumbl into TAZ_  readers that nothing would be NSFW]

“Sir? I don’t feel so good...”

It was a definite bad sign when Angus referred to Taako as ‘sir’. He hadn’t done that for half a century or more. Definitely when he was mostly-grown and it finally sunk in that he had a place to belong. Taako put down his cooking and washed and dried his hands.

Angus was-- what? Seventy? Eighty? He knew being half-elven screwed things up, sometimes. The human side demanded things go quickly, whilst the Elven side wanted to chill.

“Awright, kiddo. Gimmie the symptoms list,” Taako felt his brow. Warm to the point of hot. He was feverish. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils... Uh oh.

“I feel real restless,” said Angus. “Like I want something, but it’s not here. Everything is wrong.”

Taako took a deep inhale of Angus’ scent. It had changed up to be abnormally appealing. It triggered Taako’s more intensive needs to care for this child of his. Fortunately, he made the will save to resist his stronger instincts. “Hungry?” Taako guessed.

“Starving.” Angus looked pained and he looked around the kitchen for the undefinable. “I know I just had breakfast, but I want... I want more...”

“Luume,” said Taako. “We knew it was coming.”

“I’m only seventy-five...”

Good thing  _one_  of them was keeping track of this business. “Yeah, and it could have come on at fifty, when you were still on the weedy side.” Taako slid across something high-calorie and easy to consume, which Angus fell on. “It’s okay. Papa’s got’cha.”

As Angus wolfed down his second breakfast, Taako found the spots behind his ears, where a particular nerve cluster could be stimulated to tell Angus’ raging instincts,  _Not Yet._

Angus relaxed so much he could have melted if he didn’t have bones. He leaned against his adopted Papa and began to purr.

Taako purred in response, sending a Fantasy Text to all the people who were expecting him to do shit today.  _Family emergency. Everything’s cancelled._

After that was done, his son had Taako’s undivided attention.

* * *

 

Angus woke in the cuddle cote. Warm, comfortable, and oddly exhausted. Papa was nearby and Angus wasn’t exactly inclined to let him go, just yet.

“Well done,” said Papa. “That’s a twenty-four hour pain in the ass over and done with for probably a decade. Good to know the humanman side of things eased it up for ya.”

Papa had forty-eight hours of instinctual overdrive followed by lazy lull. Angus had heard of Elves who suffered, and made the world around them suffer, for a full three days. Papa had the extra un-bonus of an unpredictable, erratic cycle that hit like a truck.

Angus tried to remember what he’d done. He rolled a one. “What’d I do?”

“Oh, you had an easy time, baby. It’s cool. I got to your ‘off switch’ so you slept through most of it. You had some good food, I watched a lot of Fantasy Netflix. What’s not to love?”

“Mmmh,” Angus wasn’t inclined to move. “Feel like I’ve been running a marathon.”

“Yeah, that’s what it does.” Taako offered him a straw attached to an enormous bottle of gator-aid. “Drink this shit. It really helps.”

It did. Angus could feel his brain revving back up to its full potential once more. “I have a whole decade before I go through this again, right? It’d be legal for me to... youknow... with someone.”

“Anywhere between five and ten years. The human side fucks a lot of shit up with your genes, baby boy.” Taako ruffled his hair. “And if you can’t say it, you definitely ain’t ready.”

A different kind of flush invaded Angus’ face. “...probably,” he allowed. “Did I go all... Cave-Elf? Like you do?”

“You had more vocab than me f'r sure. I had Lup cook up a bunch of those condition-adding muffins I used to feed you when you were tiny. You want?”

He was suddenly craving them, now. “That’d be lovely. Warm and with butter and cream?”

“And a steak for after.” Taako wriggled free. “You stay down. Your family’s got’cher back.”

“Good...” Angus yawned. It felt like a good nights’ sleep and some fortified meals were the best thing for him. “Good Papa...”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> may I request our half elf Ango going through his first, or second Luumee? ( whether or not he's with Agatha, or what age he is, is up to you. it just thought it'd be interesting seeing our Ango go into full Nurture mode, or what have you.)thanks so much for reading this!
> 
> [AN: In Continuity with the Young Angus ‘verse, and a direct sequel to the previous request. AU adjustment, Agatha is now also a half-elf]

Agatha had grown to like making Professor Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective, blush and stammer. Some days, she could do it just by smiling a certain way. Today, though, she wasn’t even trying. Yet there he was, in her company, face growing ruddier by the second.

He was also sniffing a lot and using simpler language choices. It was when he started to perspire that she suspected something was up. Especially when, upon sneaking up on the latest crime family plot, that he wound up right next to her, taking a deep inhale, and spontaneously purring.

In elven parlance, he had a pretty loud engine when he set up a purr. Even his distress purrs were audible across a room.

“Still it,” she whispered. “You’re gonna fuck our stealth check.”

“Smells nice,” said Professor McDonald. Something on his wrist began a tinny little chime. It chimed  _Love Is In the Air._

“What the shit?” Agness whispered. She grabbed his arm and pulled up his sleeve and saw a little alert.  _Luume’irma. Batten down the hatches._  Oh no. Oh  _no._  “You’re going through Luume?  _Now?”_

Angus, a little behind on things for a change read the display, felt his own cheeks, and said, “Oh fuck, not this again...”

Timing is everything. Just as Agatha was reaching for his ‘off switch’, one of the obligatory stupid guards was bringing a young, teenage prisoner in for a dark ritual that almost certainly included a blood sacrifice.

“Baby,” cooed Angus.

“Oh fuck,” said three people at once, including the potential ‘child’ sacrifice.

Angus saw the chains, the ritual knife and, having also seen the altar, was able to put two and two together and come out with murder as both the problem and the solution. With Luume in the equation, it meant that most of the cultists and all of the crime family were stopped with extreme prejudice. Agatha helped, only to make certain that a few were left alive to testify to the authorities.

Angus, bloodstained and victorious, gathered both Agatha and the half-orc kid who had been saved into his arms and carried them to safety. Which happened to be a residence overflowing with evidence because one of the bosses lived in it. Used to live in it. There, Angus groomed and fed both the kid and Agatha, though his attentions towards Agatha made  _her_  blush and stammer.

He was caught between nurturing his found child and smudging up to someone he saw as a mate. Once that information filtered through her head, Agatha decided not to tease him so much about his affections any more.

“What’s your name, kid?” she asked the teen half-orc.

“Uh... Neosemo?” He wasn’t used to a tender touch, judging by the way he flinched every time Angus delicately untangled a knot in his hair. “Is he... okay?”

“It’s Luume. You’ve just been adopted.” Agatha thought about this. “It’s a lifelong bond and Professor McDonald is gonna be compelled to look after you. The rest of the family is just going to adopt you automatically...” Agatha temporarily lost the power of speech as Angus nuzzled affectionately into her neck and kissed her tenderly. “The good news is you got the best new leaf you could possibly have.”

“The bad news?” said Neosemo as Angus tried to feed him a fragment of lembas.

“There is no possible way to rebel because your family now includes the Seven Birds.”

Neosemo looked into the middle distance like he was seeing his first rainbow. “...holy shit..” he mumbled.

* * *

 

Angus woke himself up with his own purring. Someone very, very kind was waving scrambled eggs, waffles, and hot chocolate under his nose. Food. Yes. Good food. Even better.

He was halfway through it all when he registered that someone was talking to him. “Mrf?”

“I said, are you feeling better, now?” said Agatha.

Chew, chew, chew, gulp. “Much. Thanks for the food. Man, I feel so wiped out... Um. Was there... a kid?”

“His name is Neosemo and he’s talking with the city guard. A cleric will be by shortly to be certain you don’t have any issues. Is this your second Luume or...?”

“Yeah, it was my second. Ten years apart. I think I lucked out...” He tried not to inhale the hot chocolate. “You made all this? For me?”

“Yup. Sorry I couldn’t find any bacon for you.”

Now that he thought about it, bacon would be  _wonderful._  Bacon or mutton and clootie dumplings and -damn- when Papa said the demands on an Elf’s body were high, he wasn’t fucking around. “We’ll find some. Pretty sure one of Papa’s restaurants is around here, somewhere...” Agatha refilled his borrowed mug with more of the hot chocolate, which was delicious. “Marry me?” he said.

“Wait until you’re no longer high on hormones before you ask that again,” she joked.

“Okay,” he agreed, then his heart swelled three sizes when his new kid entered the room. “There’s my boy,” he cooed. “There’s my beautiful boy...”

The interesting times were only beginning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you write more of that story where Taako and Kravitz adopt Angus? Like, them actually meeting and adopting him, and those first days before he met everyone else? My Angus loving heart needs it pls!!!
> 
> [AN: I got good news for you, Nonny! I’m planning a longer version over in my plot kittens file. So I’m doing a much briefer version here.]

It started on the first Candlenights after the Hunger War. The only time he had had to chill out, snuggle down, and watch Fantasy Television with his main man, Kravitz. Everyone was nearly asleep thanks to the Candlenights feast, and the evening news was playing because nobody had the energy to reach for the Fantasy Remote. Besides, one of the cats was probably sleeping on it.

They were up to the puff pieces. Orphanages receiving Candlenights’ toys. Taako was particularly struck by the faces as they pretended to smile. He knew this ruse. They all had to cluster under the Candlenights Tree and pretend to enjoy opening presents that they had spent all day wrapping before the Fantasy News people stopped by. They all had to smile and pretend that these were the best presents in the world. The ones who actually got on the news got extra favours for a month.

There was a tiny boy in the arms of a gigantic teddy bear, with tears in his eyes. The smile on his face was fake as, but that didn’t matter because he was cute.

“Aaaww...” cooed Krav. “Poor little mite’s overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed that it isn’t real,” mumbled Lup.

“We spent some time in places like that,” said Taako. “Babe? I wanna rescue one of those kids. Give ‘em a chance.”

Krav chuckled. “Sure thing, babe. You bring me the paperwork and I’ll sign it. I’ll even come to any interviews you arrange.” He was probably thinking that this would be yet another pipe dream that Taako would soon dismiss as too much work.

He was so very, very wrong.

Four months later, he was attending inspections with Taako to make sure that the eventual home of a child they hadn’t met yet was up to snuff. Considering that this was the twins’ grandfather’s old farm, there was a lot to fix. Starting with the old-fashioned kludgie-holes that they were gradually installing proper toilets over.

Two months after that, they were walking around what looked like the shittiest orphanage in Faerun. Taako kept muttering ‘typical’ over and over again. The clothes were grey. The walls were grey. The linoleum was only black and white by way of a technicality. Heat avoided these places. The boys’ wards always smelled of pee and pinesol. The former because the nasty ones literally pissed on everything they could aim at.

Their tour guide was patiently explaining that things were sterilised with ammonia. Lying through her teeth. Taako kept walking until they were shown the sun room, where the babies were adopted by heteros and the sickly kids were allowed to stay so they’d be warm and moderately healthier.

There, the world’s tiniest child was seated in the window and reading a very thick book. Taako ignored the bloviating about the babies to creep up and see what the kid was reading.

Caleb Cleveland and something-or-other. It had been heavily censored. All the action scenes were left up to the imagination.

_This one,_  he thought.  _I’m taking this one into my family._

This was a kid who had given up, so he was mostly silent on the first handful of visits. Nervy kid. Terrified of doing something wrong. He saw largesse from Taako as more of the usual glitter that would -to his mind- inevitably get taken away.

Taako spent most of their bonding time in the kitchen. Helping Angus to cook up some delicious shit. Helping him get used to making mistakes. Not being overly concerned when the kid inevitably messed up, as kids could do. Even when he dropped a bowl, Taako’s first concern was that those bare little feet and soft little hands weren’t cut by the sharp china fragments that had scattered around. He hadn’t even noticed it until Angus pointed it out.

Krav bonded with the help of Caleb Cleveland. They bought the entire set so far and Krav used his adorkable Bard skills to do all kinds of character voices. Taako brought in snacks and drinks and took a few turns reading as well.

Visit by visit, little by little, Angus started to believe that he was wanted. Smiles started appearing on his face. He started growing more open to hugs. Thanks to Taako’s cooking, the general prognosis started to look more positive.

It took well over a year, but they finally signed the last piece of paperwork. Angus was  _his._  Theirs. Whatever. He was  _family._

They would be having a welcome-to-our-home party on the soonest Tuesday. The one day that everyone had off.

“Brace yourself, kiddo,” said Taako. “Now you’re mine, I wanna try kissing your face off.”

Angus giggled. “You can certainly try, sir.” He threw his arms around Taako’s neck for a very successful grapple roll.

Taako, for once, didn’t care who heard him purr or who saw the happy tears in his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I request half elf Ango ( like around 6 years old) getting sick, but trying to hide it? Like he doesn't want to bother anyone, reminded how the orphanage was still cruel and complained of him getting Ill ( which is a lot he was a very, very small boy) thank you and have a good day/night
> 
> [AN: More on the Young Angus Verse, or YAV for short!]

Some times, it was hard to remember that he was part of the family forever. Times like this, in the middle of the night, when his throat was scratchy and he kept being both too hot and too cold. When he had to get up to pee and almost ralphed with the flashbacks.

He kept smelling pine. He kept seeing grey. He kept feeling the eternal cold and damp of the boys’ ward.

_Sick again? Really, Mr McDonald... what are we going to do with you?_

Angus drank water, because nobody complained about him needing water, and changed into his warm winter pyjamas and huddled in a tight ball under his blankets. If he just got enough rest, if he was quiet enough, then nobody would punish him for being an ordeal.

If he could pretend it was all normal, then nobody would be rough with him in forcing him to get better.

He woke up with the alarm. Filing out in step with the other boys, to the kludgies where his toes burned in spite of how cold the floors normally were. From there, to the bathroom where he waited to be called.

“Angel? Angus, sweetie, do you need me to get your shower ready? It’s a school day, hon.”

Angus turned and nearly screamed. Mr Thud was talking with Mr Taako’s voice. He looked so angry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rasping. “Did I miss the nurses call?”

“Nurses?” Mr Thud knelt and a jingle happened when he moved his arms. “Angel... You’re not okay...”

“I’ll be fine,” he rasped. “Don’t keep me away from the sunshine? I didn’t mean it.”

“Ooohhh kay...” Mr Thud’s image crooned. “Tell me five things you see, okay sweetheart?”

Five things. He could see five things. “I see a floor mat. I see a... bathtub...” it wasn’t tin. It was set into the glittering cream tiles. “I see a sink basin. I see... a shower stall...” Mr Thud wasn’t there any more. “I see you, Mr Taako.”

“That’s good, that’s good. I’m gonna put my hand on your noggin, okay? Just real gentle. You go ahead and tell me all about four things you can hear.”

Jingle jingle jingle, went his bangles. “I hear your jewellery. I hear... Mr Kravitz feeding the cats.” He closed his eyes. “I hear the kettle boiling. And I hear the upper branches creaking.”

“That’s very good, Angus. I’m gonna touch you on the side of your jaw and neck. It’s okay to let me know if it hurts. If you can, tell me about three things you can feel.”

Angus reached out. “I feel th’ glass of the shower stall. It’s nice an’ cool. I feel your hands... ow...”

“Sorry, baby.” Mr Taako got way more gentle.

“Your hands are nice and soft.”

“Uhuh. One more thing you can feel. You can do this.”

He rubbed the fabric of his pyjamas. “I can feel soft, warm flannel.”

“Excellent. Give me a big sniff and tell me two things you can smell.”

“I can smell your cologne... and... there’s jam cooking? Strawberries?”

He wasn’t Mr Taako. He was Papa. He’d been Papa for some time, now. “That’s great,” he cooed. “Can I  pick you up?”

Angus nodded, leaning into the hold. His world felt so much safer with Papa holding him. Especially when Papa held him between Dad and himself.

“Last thing. What does your mouth taste like, now?”

Angus flexed his tongue in his mouth. “Morning funk. I didn’t brush my teeth.”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.” They were headed towards the big cuddle cote, where it was always a nice temperature and half the cats spent their nap times.

“‘S a school day. I’m s’posed’a go t’ school.”

“Not any more. Change of plans.” Papa stopped. “Krav? Can you call the school? We got a case of swellneck here. I think the modern name is mumps?”

“On it, babe,” said Dad. He started dialling a frequency on the nearest Stone of Farspeech.

“I got mumps?” Angus croaked.

“Yeah. Not your fault. I blame Susan and her anti-vax friends. You  _were_  going to get your boosters next week, but...” Papa sighed. “We'll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

It was nice in the cuddle cote. It was always nice in the cuddle cote. Room enough to sprawl out and laze around with up to ten adults. Angus picked a space where the household cats weren’t napping and got as comfy as he could.

Papa used Prestidigitation to heat one piece of towelling and cool another. Angus got to pick which one felt the best around his swollen neck. The warm one made him feel better.

“The bad news is, you’re out of circulation for a week or two,” said Papa.

“The good news,” said Dad, entering with a tray, “is you get all the ice cream, custard, and jelly you want.”

“And soup,” said Taako. “Can’t forget soup.”

Angus had a smile despite how horrible he was feeling. This wasn’t the orphanage any more. It would get easier to remember that as time went by.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
>  Can I request Taako And Ango, specifically the first time Ango felt safe enough to put around Taako, and his reaction to it? Thank you so much for reading this!
> 
> [AN: You skipped a few words there, but I can see them. “His arms” right?]

For the first three overnights, Angus was nearly mute, very rarely expressing himself with words. For the first week away from the orphanage, he gradually got bold enough to speak in complete sentences. That was when prospective parents decided that he was too much work and went looking for easier children to adopt.

Therefore, it was the second week-long stay with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz that Angus started having nightmares. Vivid ones that didn’t always go away when he woke up. Or ones that continued when he woke up, and woke up, and woke up again.

Mr Taakko clued on inside of two nights. “Never got this far, huh?” he said, his hands busy with something pastry-based. Mr Taako cooked his emotions and stress always made for the airiest desserts. He wasn’t stressed  _because_  of Angus, he explained, he was stressed  _about_  Angus. No small child should have to endure this horseshit, he had said. Frequently. “Scared we’ll throw you off for a better model, trade you in or whatever.” He exchanged one bowl for another, whipping and whipping and  _whipping_  at some cream. “No matter how often I tell you it ain’t happening, it’s still hard to believe, right?”

“You hit the nail on the head, there, sir.”

Mr Taako nodded, his hands never stopped working. Putting his stress and worry into frothing up assorted batters or rolling flat assorted doughs. The hands moved on their own as Mr Taako thought out loud. “I gotta tell you, kiddo. I hardly went through that. I always had my sister to show me I wasn’t alone, that I always had someone on my team.” Fold, fold, fold, went his hands, then dish, dish, dish as he filled folded pastry with something he’d literally whipped up. “You need someone who’s just...  _there.”_  He said. “Up for a potential-family sleepover in the cuddle cote tonight?”

Angus understood  _most_  of those words, but in context, together, they sounded like nonsense. Especially ‘cuddle cote’. “What’s a cuddle cote, sir?”

Mr Taako showed him, once he was finished putting the latest chain of creations in the oven. It was a rounded space with a low ceiling. Made for crawling through but mostly designed for laying down or cuddling up in. In the wayback times, a whole family would take up one cote and cuddle and snuggle together. Babies would be in the trundle-pods, off to the sides, never far from someone who could look after them, and never endangered by larger bodies in the cote.

Angus noted that he could fit in some of the larger trundle pods, all scrunched up and secure in his own little bubble. Once he evicted two or three cats, of course.

“If you wanna curl up in there, that’s your prerogative, Ango, but Krav and I will be right here if you need us. Guaranteed me, though. Krav sometimes has to scootch off on Bird Mom business.”

That was... a slightly unnerving wrinkle in things. He could count the Raven Queen herself - a literal goddess - as an adopted grandmother. The chain of illogic evaded him, but it seemed to fit Mr Taako like a glove.

Just like this old Elven farmhouse. Just like all the irregular insanity that seemed to be Mr Taako’s facts of existence.

That night, Mr Taako showed Angus and Mr Kravitz the whole workings of the cuddle cote. How to plump up the mattresses and how to use all the cushions and pillows and blankets. Where the exits were and where they lead to, and how the entire space lit up with fairy lights whenever anyone was awake, or how the whole cote was protected from the worst and messiest of accidents by recently refreshed runes.

Not that Angus had ever had a bed-wetting accident since he was two years old, but it was nice to know that the facility was there. Just in case.

The sleepover included snacks and drinks and quiet talk and funny stories until Angus curled up with one of the cats in his pre-selected trundle pod. Mr Taako tucked them in and then snuggled with Mr Kravitz as the lights got dimmer and dimmer and sleep came naturally as breathing.

Unfortunately, so did the nightmares.

The same ammonia-scented nightmare as always, that he was back in the cold, damp, unfeeling halls of the orphanage. That he’d never left. That his life with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz was all a fever dream. That he was sick. That he was dying. That nobody cared...

“Angus... Angel. I’m right here. Papa’s right here, honey. You’re having a bad dream. Come on. Come on back to us.”

The fairy lights, subtly glowing runes, and organic curves of the cuddle cote didn’t mesh well with the industrial bareness of the orphanage. Angus was never happier to see Mr Taako’s luminescent mismatched eyes in the half-light.

There was no need to think about it. He just lunged out of the trundle pod and threw his arms around Mr Taako. He smelled of safety. Which, in this case, was of baked goods, cinnamon, and his slightly floral cologne.

Mr Taako returned the embrace, producing a soft and comforting purr. “I gotcha, baby. I gotcha. You want up and out?”

Angus nodded.

Mr Taako lifted him out of the trundle pod, taking the blanket with and sort of rolling Angus between two adult bodies. One dead to the world, so to speak.

“Mrnh?” said Mr Kravitz, sort of rolling over.

“Bad dream. Baby needs cuddles.”

“Mm-hm...” Mr Kravitz scootched up and put an arm around them both. His even breathing and Mr Taako’s gentle purr and both their arms around him made him feel safer than he ever remembered feeling. This time, when he slept, no nightmares could break through.

His next awareness was Mr Kravitz moving and wiping some tears from Mr Taako’s face. “Tears, love?”

“Liquid happiness,” said Mr Taako. “Our boy’s starting to accept us.”

Angus didn’t protest. This was, after all, the reason he was having the nightmares in the first place; because he feared all this wonderful being taken away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Ah! That was my bad, it was supposed to be " pur around Taako" so aka first time he felt safe enough to pur around his family. But that was still sweet!
> 
> [AN: Well, now I owe y’all an Ango purring fic. It is continuing on from the last Young Angus fic. The morning after the nightmares before.]

Angus yawned as he lay in Mr Taako’s arms. Let Mr Taako finger-comb his hair. His eyes kept wanting to close and the bedding was soft and warm and he felt safe, which was a big deal for him.

Mr Taako had called Angus ‘our boy’. That was a big deal, too.

A soft rumble began in his chest, an echo of the contentment that he was only just now starting to realise he felt. He’d never purred before, not that he could easily recall. For a moment, his purr stuttered and faltered.

Mr Taako kept petting his hair. “It’s okay,” he cooed. “It’s okay. It’s all natural, and it’s always allowed.” As if to demonstrate, he, too, purred. Soft and relaxing and reassuring.

Angus let himself relax. Let all of the trepidation he usually felt evaporate. Let the sensation of safety and security fill him up like one of Mr Taako’s delicious meals. The rumble came back with a vengeance.

Mr Taako gripped him tighter for a little bit, and Angus suspected that more liquid joy was leaking out of his eyes. That thought made him purr even louder. Him and the cats and Mr Taako and the laziness of a relaxed morning when nothing urgent needed to happen.

Eventually, the purring slowed as morning discomforts made themselves known. A full bladder and an empty stomach made rising from their nest a necessity.

As always, Mr Taako offered him choices on how to start his morning. Shower or bath? Cereal, pancakes, or a fry-up? Mint or raspberry toothpaste? Somewhere in the middle of all those choices, including his choice of clothing, Mr Taako got dressed and organised the ingredients for the breakfast of Angus’ choice.

“Sir?” Angus asked in the middle of consuming his scrambled eggs. “Why are you soft and I’m loud?”

Mr Taako chuckled. “Oh, I can purr real loud from time to time,” he said. “Loud purrs are what happens when Elves feel totally safe and content. Let their family know by purring as loud as they can. You got yourself quite the engine, there, by the way.”

Angus didn’t want to think that something was causing Mr Taako to not feel safe and content. “So... you don’t have much of an engine?”

Mr Taako bit his lip. “It’s... uh... It’s a little different when an Elf is feeling parental, the purr... it gets softer. To help the child feel... well...”

“More content and secure?” prompted Angus.

“Yeah,” said Mr Taako. “That.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t have an easy time saying things, sometimes, kid. Angus. ‘Specially three small words like... I and love and you. In that order.”

“It’s okay, sir,” said Angus. “I noticed.”

“I don’t care what the judges in all of this say, sweetie, you’re my kid. The purring proves it.”

The rumble in Angus’ chest started up again with that statement.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request some YHA ( young half elf ango) it is the Halloween, but ango probably doesn't have great memories at the orphanage of that. Taako and Kravitz making it a good one for him? Or Ango making his very first friend at school and telling Taako all about it? ( maybe June?) Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> [AN: Faerun doesn’t have Halloween, but it does have the midsummer festival with the eclipse and all, so I’m going there]

Taako guessed that there would be trouble when he asked, “Excited for the Summer Faire?” and got the answer, “No.”

He cast his mind back to the shittiest places he had ever survived, and the festivals he had been made to participate in, trying to fit his own horrible memories into the traditions of Faerun. “Bigger kids beat you up? Or were they working to be their scariest?”

“Both,” said Angus. “They always put me right in the middle of the games. Like... almost drowning me during apple bobbing. Or going to knock down the cans and then throwing the balls at me.”

“I get the picture.” Taako sucked on his teeth. “We both know none of those assholes are gonna be around to taunt you, but that’s not the point. Y’know... you could have the scariest costume?”

Angus, having learned Disguise Self, cast it and changed himself into the very image of his Aunt Lup when she was in her lich form. He even did the ghostly whisper. “How’s this...?”

“Well. Gotta tell ya. I ain’t scared ‘cause that’s my sister and you’re adorable. That spell only lasts an hour, though. I could go ahead and enchant an Angus-sized red robe to do that for you. Sound good?”

Angus was still for a long time, thinking about it. He eventually said, “Yes, sir.”

Taako didn’t expect much in the way of words from him. Not yet. “You think I’d look good as Caleb Cleveland?”

A shy smile dawned on his face. “Mr Kravitz is already doing Caleb Cleveland, sir. Perhaps a different hero?”

“Got any favourites?”

* * *

 

Caleb Cleveland was waiting, hand-in-hand with a tiny, flaming Lup from TV. “Hurry up, Taako!”

“Just a sec’,” he called from within. He emerged in an outfit so bright and loud that it would screw up any stealth check for life. Bright yellow pants with dark pinstripes. Mismatched patchwork vest. Bright blue polka-dotted tie, and an equally mismatched patchwork coat. Taako had a mop of brown curls in the place of his usual golden cascade. “You got any idea how hard it is to get this wig right?”

Angus was giggling.

“Yeah, laugh it up, little man. I’m never leaving your side the entire day.”

It wasn’t far to the local fair, especially not on the estate’s riding deer. Riding on a deer was up on Angus’ top ten as the most exciting thing to do. It was like flying whilst not fearing the end of a spell.

Everything was bright colours and lights and noise, but this was different to the pathetic fair of the orphanage. There were rides and music and stalls and Angus had two people on his side for a change.

Magnus was waiting for them. Dressed up like Taako, as he had been for the past two Summer Faires. This time, it was the red robe version. Full arcanist uniform and the jacket worn like a cape over the robe.

The faire was full of pint-sized Birds; even a few adults. Many fell to the usual standards of witches, warlocks, undead and famous figures from plays or moving scrolls. There were plenty of obvious store-bought costumes. A few dedicated cosplayers, and nobody was looking at Angus like he was target of the day.

A host of kids all looked his way and said, “Whooooaaahhh...”

One jumped up and down, pointing. “Mama, mama, mama, I wanna look like  _that,_  next year! Mama, look!”

The mother, a very tired woman in an ineffective vampire costume, wasn’t looking. She sighed, “That’s nice dear,” and kept looking through the stall she was rummaging through.

“Five seconds and you’re already the belle of the ball,” said Kravitz. “Where first?”

“Food? Fun? Frivolity?”

Angus broke his usual silence. “I wanna corn dog anna toffee apple anna cotton candy and I wanna watch Magnus’ Dog Circus.”

“Way to go, kiddo,” cheered Taako. “It’s not a good Summer Faire until you’re biliously ill.”

“You mean like on the tilt-a-whirl?” said Magnus.

“Puh-leez.  _Your_  hairy armpits with  _my_  signature look? That’s a constitution saving throw right there.”

Magnus laughed uproariously. “Yeah, you got a point. Hey, Ango, you remember Mitzi?”

Angus nodded.

“I need someone to be her hoop. Want me to call on you for the show?”

He didn’t need to think about that. Being part of a circus? That would make this the best day ever.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt if I can; Angus gets hit by a memory spell while out on a case and starts acting like he did for the adults at the orphanage. He’s too obedient to show he’s terrified of his new family, but they know. Taako brings him out of it by walking through all their good (and a few bad) memories together.

Ango didn’t have very many tells, but by now, Taako knew them all. The stiffly formal posture, the subtle air of trepidation, and, of course, the word ‘sir’ when referring to himself, Krav, or any other male in the immediate vicinity.

Angus was roughed up, and unfamiliar with his surroundings. “...did I do something bad, sir?” he squeaked. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Aw beans, I’m sorry kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.” Breathe. Focus. Tell the truth and don’t pull any goofs. He had to be careful with his goofs with his kid at this stage of things. “This is my fault. I zigged when I should’a zagged. You just stay put...” he got his first aid kit out of his pack. “I’m gonna ask you a few questions, and some of ‘em might seem silly but I need ya to be honest as you can, okay? I got stuff here to patch you up... can I do that?”

Angus nodded.

“To make it fair, you can ask me questions, too.” Taako cleared his throat. “What’s the last thing you remember before wakin’ up on the floor here?”

“...they gave me my birthday cupcake in the cafeteria, sir...”

“Really? Happy birthday. How old are you?”

“...three years old, today, sir... may i ask? ...who are you?”

Ouch. Ouch.  _Ouch._  Taako  _almost_  won the fight to keep the wince off his face. “This is gonna be a little bit difficult to take in, kiddo. Uhm. You’re  _five_  now. And... Krav -my husband- and I... we... we adopted you.”

Blam. Blank face. Not betraying anything and shutting down completely. Instant disbelief.

Taako struggled to keep a pleasant and calm demeanour. This was just like the early days, when he had to build trust. This made him want to puke. “This is an antiseptic salve, it won’t sting. Can I put it on your scrapes?”

Gods, he could grow to hate that blank-faced nod. Taako focussed intensely on getting all the scrapes and a small aura around them for the unbroken skin that could still sting.

Taako gained permission to add bandages. He had Caleb Cleveland brand bandages of healing in his kit, something that earned a flicker of surprise from Angus. “It looks like you got hit with a memory spell, sweetheart.” Oops, that was the wrong word to say. “I promise I will never hurt you, okay? There’s an inn near here. Big public space, relatively quiet. Want to go there?”

He hardly moved, but that was a nod.

Taako wracked his brains for all the old solutions that had helped in the early days when Ango was afraid of everything. He dug around in his pack and found what he was looking for. The trust rope. A brightly-coloured, short length of rope, turned into loops at both ends. “I gotta keep you close ‘cause I’m supposed to look after ya, right? So... I trust you to hang on to one end of this, and you trust me to...” his voice cracked, briefly. “You trust me to lead you safely where ya wanna go...”

* * *

 

The inn was good. Clean and happy, and full of people but not full enough to be too loud for Angus’ liking. There were nice people here. He sat properly and enjoyed the stew that Mr Taako had purchased.

Mr Taako was very upset. Stressed and close to tears. Worried and scared. He’d ordered the stew and a small beer for Angus, but nothing for himself. He was calling people on his Stone of Farspeech. 

Angus listened to the names. Kravitz. Lucretia. Merle. None of these names seemed familiar to him, unless he counted the Story and Song from the weird light. Mr Taako was from that story, but he didn’t seem like the callous hero he had become during that hundred-year journey. Mr Taako trembled and fought off tears. Something bad had to have happened to someone he cared about.

Because of the spell, Angus didn’t count himself in that group.

He sat politely, quietly, like a good boy. Listening to the inn’s bard. Watching as people arrived to look at him. An old male Dwarf with flowers in his beard and a living branch for one arm and a missing eye with an owl on the eyepatch. He spoke gruffly and was kind’a frightening. Angus had to roll a will save to stay exactly where he was. An older human woman who almost dripped gravitas as she sat with Mr Taako and spoke in a quiet voice.

A man in mostly black arrived and Mr Taako launched himself into the other man’s arms, and buried his face into the black-clad man’s shoulder. The gold band shining from this new stranger’s ebony fingers could indicate that this was the husband ‘Kravitz’ whom Mr Taako had spoken of. He confirmed it by kissing Mr Taako’s brow and murmuring, “It’s going to be all right, love. We’ll solve this. Jus’ breathe, darling.”

The older human woman was casting diagnostic spells, weaving patterns of light around Angus’ head. “The good news is, young Mr McDonald will recover in time.”

Mr Taako didn’t move from Mr Kravitz’s arms. “Gimmie the bad news, Luce.”

A deep breath. A long sigh. “He’s going to need familiarity in order to remember. An environment that he remembers, food... people...”

Now Mr Taako moved. Turning away from Mr Kravitz with tears in his eyes and a snarl on his face. “Find. Another. Way. Like  _fuck_  am I sending him back into that  _hell hole.”_

That was some real strong emotion. Angus could believe that Mr Taako had seen the orphanage and really didn’t like it. Angus could begin to believe that he could trust Mr Taako.

The older human woman said, “I’ll get the Bureau of Benevolence onto that dark magic cult your son had found. Mr McDonald? May I have your notebook? The clues you have in there would be a great advantage to us.”

Angus stared at her blankly.

“In your satchel, pumpkin. The... the one with the blue cover and the triangles like this,” Mr Taako showed a silver bracer on his left arm that featured four equilateral triangles making a diamond in the middle.

Angus had a satchel, and hadn’t dared to look in it in case it belonged to someone else. He gingerly opened it and found his own name in the inside flap. There was also a starter wand, a copy of a Caleb Cleveland book he never knew existed, a spare sweater, a mini umbrella... and the aforementioned notebook. Which also had his name on it. It had his writing in it, too. Names, addresses, leads and clues. Just like Caleb Cleveland would do.

Nobody was snatching it off him. Nobody was yelling at him to have it. Ms Lucretia was waiting patiently with one hand open, ready to receive it.

Angus passed it over. He summoned the courage to say, “...i hope you find them, ma’am...”

“We will,” said Ms Lucretia. “When we do, we will kick  _all_  their asses on your behalf.”

* * *

 

The house was a gigantic tree. Elven architecture, which meant that there were no flat walls, no completely level floors, and lots of winding passages between places. There were also a lot of cats who greeted him like an old friend.

“We’re... staying on the ground floor again,” said Mr Taako. “This old house is just like the one my grandfather used to have. Like. Exactly like the one my grandfather... eh, it’s complicated. Long story short, I inherited it via a technicality.” Mr Taako moved into the kitchen like it wanted him in there. It was a huge space, kept warm by the giant Aga stove. Twenty people could have been cooking in there at once and not one of them would bump elbows with another. He got together a bunch of ingredients on a counter and bowls and tools with them. “This is your home, Ango. And I’m cooking up one of your favourites. You can help if you wanna, I--” he sighed. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna.”

Mr Kravitz was looking at Mr Taako like his heart was breaking. “Dove... are you sure? I remember how much this wrecked you the first time...”

“Our boy is worth getting wrecked over,” said Mr Taako. “Again and again and again. I’ll get wrecked until I’m pulp, babe. Look at him and tell me he’s not worth it.”

Mr Kravitz looked at Angus, and did  _not_  tell Mr Taako that Angus wasn’t worth it. He said, “So let’s get this show on the road, Dove. I’ll be your happy helper.”

Mr Kravitz did funny voices that made Angus want to giggle in spite of himself. A cat came to sit on Angus’ lap and it demanded pets. Her name was Neopolitan and she was soft and fluffy and so very friendly. She purred really loud and helped Angus feel safe.

It was the smell of baking that brought a sensation of deja vu to Angus. This kitchen wasn’t too big. It was just right. And Taako was trying so hard to be brave about this whole mess. Angus remembered how to pet Neopolitan  _just so_  so that she would stretch out on his lap and keep his knees warm and stick her tongue out and drool a little. He’d always thought that was funny.

The taste of Taako’s ginger bread with butter and lashings of honey and cream brought back a vision of Candlenights, after all the presents had been opened. Watching some garbage on the fantasy television. Snuggled up under a big fluffy blanket between Papa and Dad, surrounded by purring and sleepy cats.

“Egg nog,” said Angus, and the memory was gone again.

Papa was pleased all the same. “That’s right, little man. This bread goes fucking  _fantastic_  with egg nog. Want me to whip you up some?”

In a snap, he was afraid again. Unfamiliar again. He could almost remember... but it was just out of reach. “...water, please, sir...”

Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz looked... stricken.

“It’s okay to want things,” said Mr Kravitz. “We have lots. We don’t mind.”

Mr Taako said, “I know how you like it... and how to make it so you don’t get troubles.”

Of course he did. Of  _course_  he did. They were family now. Family. There had been a huge party and the smallest dog ever and... And he didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who these people were. He didn’t know why there was a cat on him or how he’d got this slice of... something that smelled like home. Something so familiar and not familiar at the same time and it all made him dizzy...

“Cuddle cote?” said Mr Kravitz.

“Cuddle cote,” decided Mr Taako.

They got permission to move him, and the cat protested softly as she was shifted to a couch. The next thing Angus knew, he was in a huge nest of pillows, blankets and mattresses, with Dad reading his favourite Caleb Cleveland book with his character voices, and Papa was fussing over him and he had a broken purr...

...and he remembered being sick. Really, really sick because their asshole neighbour Susan didn’t believe in vaccinations. But it was almost okay because he got to eat jelly and cream and delicious soups and Papa always made it better with a cooled towel...

...and waking up with nightmares of going back into the urine-soaked, permanently damp, cold, grey orphanage from whence he began. He knew it would be okay because Papa was there. Papa was  _right there_  with him and Dad could hold him too and help him feel safe and Papa’s purring would lull him to sleep...

...and the care and artistry that went into Angus’ daily bento boxes. Meat and the special cheese and vegetables and fruit, all arranged into scenes from Caleb Cleveland novels. And a special cupcake tucked away in its own container, with a little note that Papa or Dad had written to be certain he wasn’t lonely at school...

...and a bathtub filled with lemon-scented bubbles. Papa was soaked to the skin and laughing as he tickled Angus with the washcloth. He’d never let Angus fall...

“Papa,” Angus breathed. “Papa... Dad... I’m so sorry I forgot everything...”

His parents lunged, wrapping him up in a hug. Papa’s purr got very loud indeed in that moment, but soon gentled to a soft and soothing parental purr.

“We’re just glad you’re okay, baby,” Papa sighed.

“It’s good to have you back,” said Dad.

It was good to be back. Even with liquid happiness leaking out of his eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt, because I love how you write Angus! The kid won’t admit it, but being inside an enclosed space (like a carriage, a BoB sphere, etc) scares the hell out of him because the orphanage would regularly lock him in the closet when he misbehaved. It manages to go unnoticed until he ends up having a major panic attack/meltdown in front of Lucretia.

Angus was starting to get used to the farm. He liked the riding deer and they liked him back, and riding on them was like magic, even when Taako was doing all the steering with Angus perched in front.

It was such a shame that he had to go back for yet another assessment at the orphanage at the end of the month. He didn’t want to dread that day. He wanted to soak in as much Taako time as he could get. Which was why he was wrapped around the Elf in question whilst he talked on his Stone to some people.

Kravitz had left on urgent Reaper business. Taako’s so-far-invisible sister and brother-in-law were doing the same thing. Taako had just been called up for some Bureau business and he was calling around to various babysitting agencies to try and find someone to look after Angus.

Who did not want to let Taako go, at this point.

Finally, Taako sighed and carried them both outdoors to a fallow field. He pointed and touched the sigil on his silver bracer, then sort of danced with Angus in his arms.

“I know. I know. This is scary beans, right now. Listen. I do  _not_  want to leave you, okay? This is... this is hero stuff I gotta do. And... since there’s literally nobody I can hire to keep you safe, I gotta take you with me to the next safest place I know.”

Angus saw that Taako had his travel bag with. It looked like it was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of things. A soft toy poked out of one flap, and the rectangular shape in its bulk could easily be a Caleb Cleveland book. Angus deduced that this was not a trip back to the orphanage. Not with that much stuff crammed into the travel bag.

A gigantic sphere landed in the fallow field and Taako threw the travel bag into it, then fussed with the booster seat before he got into a chair by some controls.

“You and me? We’re going to the moon, little man.”

Angus couldn’t reach the travel bag. He could see the giant tree of a house fall away. Then the clouds. One of the moons was getting closer and closer. Taako offered his hand. Angus didn’t know about taking it. He’d already strapped him to a chair that was out of easy reach.

A crater on the moon opened up. Into darkness.

“It’s okay,” said Taako. “It’s safe.”

Pitch black. Angus could smell the rotten blood and foul sewerage stink of the Quiet Room. He felt cold invade his bones. He could feel the slimy mildew under his fingers.

Light shocked him. Angus half expected to see Mr Thud looming over him or Nurse Stronginthearm ready to literally carry him to the next destination. What there really was looked kind of like a city in the sky, all domes and what looked like glass and fancy people in blue. These were the heroes of the BOB. What was once the Bureau of Balance, and was now the Bureau of Benevolence. An organisation of the best of the best who went out and helped with problems all over Faerun.

“Okay. We’re here. I’m gonna pick you up and carry you out, is that okay?”

Angus could barely nod. He could still feel the cold of the Quiet Room. He could still smell its stench. It overpowered Taako’s cologne. Angus was still and quiet all the way to a grassy quad where Taako sat him down. The travel bag was close by, this time, as was Taako.

“I’m right here if you need a hug. Or, if you like, you can just reach out and feel the grass. I packed you everything you could need... all you have to do is look...”

Angus was just about to touch the grass when a pair of businesslike shoes appeared in his field of vision. That was the last straw. He screamed, curling up into a ball and waiting for the bad things to go away.

* * *

 

Taako glared up at Luce. This was, as far as he was concerned, another bad mark against a woman he had once trusted like a sister. The sister she had surgically removed from his memories. Sure, he got those memories  _back,_  but it was the ten-to twelve years without her memory that still stung. “I  _sent_  you a list of things to not  _do,_  Lucretia. You just did fucking five of them.”

He could see how her name hurt her, flung like that like a knife from his lips. She backed away. Circling around until she would be in view, but safely distant.

Taako focussed on Angus. Humming a popular tune and rattling his bracelets. Once Angus relaxed a little, Taako brushed the little boy’s skin with the ends of his hair. A golden braid against smooth, dark skin. “There now,” he cooed. “There now. I got the unicorn plush with. You want?”

A bare ghost of a nod. Angus reverted to Utterly Correct Posture. He was in a bad brain space, the poor kid.

Taako handed him the unicorn plush, which Angus faked a smile over and brushed. In a few minutes, the soft fuzz and squishiness would help him actually relax. Taako dug out one of the conditioning muffins and warmed it up with Prestidigitation. Angus liked them when they were warm.

Angus nibbled at it, watching Lucretia with wide, fearful eyes.

“This is Madam Director,” said Taako. “You’d remember her being a lot younger in the Story and Song.”

Madam Director said, “I could put on a red--”

“Shut,” warned Taako, one finger upraised. “She will not hurt you, Angus. She’s going to watch over you and make sure you’re safe. Okay?”

Angus had yet to look her in the face. He was watching her body for any kind of aggressive tell. Having nibbled the top off of the muffin, he was carefully peeling back the paper and nibbling the crumbs off it before he worked on the actual muffin. Eventually, he nodded.

“Okay,” said Taako. He got the Trust Rope out because Angus didn’t always feel safe holding anyone’s hand. “That’s good. I’m gonna trust you to hold one loop here and you’re gonna trust me to lead you somewhere safe, okay? Just like the other times.”

Nod.

“Stand up when you’re ready to go. I’m gonna talk to Madam Director. I’ll be close if you need help.”

Angus just nibbled on his muffin.

Taako got himself up, dusted himself off, and grit his teeth for the next part. He walked as calmly as he could manage over to her, gathering his thoughts. He said, “Remember cycle thirty-two? That little kid who never said a word?”

“Ember,” said Lucretia. Her eyes shed some tears. “I could never forget.”

“Angus is like her. Always get permission, always be gentle. Never lie. No cows’ milk or sesame seeds or anything that’s been near either. I got a bunch of meals in the bag, and one of his favourite books. He likes character voices. You should be able to handle it.”

Angus stood up, still clinging to the plush unicorn, still nibbling on his muffin.

Taako offered one end of the trust rope. “You might have to let something go, pumpkin...”

He surrendered the plush. 

Taako tucked it back into the bag and took up  the other end of the Trust Rope. Letting Lucretia also hold on to his loop. “Okay. Show us the way to the softest safe space you got, Madam Director.”

* * *

 

Two meals and a good nap later, Madam Director was still sitting quietly on a bean bag in the Soft Room on the Moon.

Angus knew that Taako disliked her, so he didn’t exactly want to talk at all near her. He had the unicorn plush, and his book, and Taako had packed a  _lot_  of meals in the special packs that kept them fresh and warm. There were notes,

So far, Angus had found,  _I know you don’t believe me, but I never want to leave you without anyone of your own._  He had also found,  _I never wanted to go, and I’m trying as hard as I can to get back to you._

Madam director had the cupcake wrapper that he had nibbled clean, and was folding and re-folding it on the padded floor. She seemed pleased with herself. “There,” she said. The wrapper was now folded into the shape of a peacock. “What do you think?”

Angus shrugged. He made himself comfortable in a corner far away from her and opened his book to where he’d left off.

“Want me to read with you?”

Only Kravitz was allowed to do that. Angus shook his head. There were no clocks in the soft room. Just a big square of a room with colourful walls and lots of padding and cushions and bean bags and fluffy blankets. He just finished an excellent fight scene when a familiar tearing meant that Kravitz had come for him. Angus turned just in time to see the scythe of his office evaporate.

“There’s our little boy,” Kravitz cooed.

Angus didn’t care about the implications of a child preferring the sweet embrace of Death than Madam Director’s company. He just ran for Kravitz because he knew Kravitz was safe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we get a fix where Taako and Kravitz have a fight/disagreement and Angus freaks out? He probably hasn’t seen many positive relationships in his life and would think one small fight could become another Taako and Sazed abusive relationship. Thank you!!!!
> 
> [AN: Going with Young Ango because bigger angst potential]

Angus hid behind the doorway, breath stilled in his throat, tears prickling at his eyes. Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz were yelling at each other. It was happening. It was finally happening.

They were fighting.

They were fighting because Angus was in the house. Just like any of the other couples who had taken him in for the early cycle of home visits and inspections and the dance of eternal paperwork.

“It’s not babysitting, Krav. He’s  _our_  damn kid! Take some parental responsibility.”

“I am being responsible! I’m working for our keep!”

“I got the money sewed up, babe.”

“It’s not as if I can take time off whenever I feel like it! My Queen needs me!”

“Our  _baby_  needs you!”

“Stop calling him that! He’s not our baby!”

Angus felt every muscle in his body turn into a knot. Felt his panicked breath stop in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. He was going to die alone and nobody cared about him and Nurse Stronginthearm was going to scrub the meat off his bones for the orphanage stew...

“Oh fuck,” said Mr Taako. There was a clatter of his high heels against the polished floors, and then the smell of floral cologne and his warm presence nearby. “Sweetie...? Sweetie, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Angus, panicked, couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe in. Couldn’t feel anything but utter terror. They were going to break up. They were going to split apart because he was here to ruin their love and he was so sorry and he didn’t want to be stew...

“Oh shit,” said Mr Kravitz. He joined Mr Taako in holding Angus. “I didn’t mean to say-- What I meant is that you’re a little boy.” Mr Kravitz’s cool hand rubbed over Angus’ back. “You’re not a baby any more.”

The panic still had him in its clutches. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was going dark and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move and the whole world hurt.

Mr Kravitz started to sing a lullabye as both Mr Taako and himself held Angus close. All the terror ebbed away under a gentle and soothing Calm Emotion. Mr Taako’s soft purr provided a non-magical counterpart. With calm, came sweet air. With calm, the knotted muscles eased. Tears fell. Sobs loosed, but that was just because they were held back for so long.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr Kravitz.

“...please don’t go bad,” Angus managed. “...please don’t break up... please don’t turn sour ‘cause of me...”

“Aw no, aawww...” cooed Mr Taako, rocking with Angus in his arms. “It’s just a little tiff, pumpkin... People have fights like this all the time. We got angry at each other, but it’s all over, now.”

Mr Kravitz said, “Taako was right. I do need to share more of my time with you. I need to figure out how to break up my work so that I can have more of a home life.” He moved closer. Wrapping Angus and Mr Taako up in his arms. “Sorry I panicked you.”

“Krav was right, too,” said Mr Taako. “He does important work and it can never wait. Also... you  _are_  a little kid. But... I can’t help thinking of you as my baby. I want you to be part of my life.”

Mr Kravitz whispered, “I’d love us all to be a family.”

Angus peeked. Mr Taako had tears slipping from his eyes. Mr Kravitz had moisture spilling from his own. They were both more concerned with Angus than they were about fighting.

A black feather fell from Mr Kravitz’s hair. Angus caught it. Mr Kravitz had never used feathers in his hair.

“I have to go,” said Mr Kravitz. He didn’t sound glad. “I want to come back as soon as I can.”

“I know, babe,” Mr Taako sighed. “Our boy’s gonna need extra hugs.”

“I’ll come back and read him a chapter of Caleb Cleveland. Soon as I can.”

“Don’t let Bird Mom keep you too long with the paperwork.”

Angus, still in Mr Taako’s arms, watched them kiss. They weren’t turning sour. They were okay.

Mr Taako carried Angus to the couch for an extended cuddle session. “Big upset today. Some people broke up when they realised childrearing isn’t alway sunshine and lollipops, right?”

Angus, curled up and halfway wrapped around Mr Taako, nodded.

Mr Taako’s bangles rang as he stroked Angus’ hair. “This is a fight every family has, sweetie. Who does more for the kid. Who does more for the household. Who’s more tired at the end of the day.” Mr Taako took a deep breath. “That sort’a thing broke up my parents. I admit, there was more than a bit of superstition stirred in... Not important. Too long ago. Today... Krav and I had that argument. It happened. We got loud. It don’t mean it’s the end of us. You got that, little man?”

Angus could believe it in the way they kissed. In the way they meant it when they apologised. In the way their touch lingered on each other.

Angus nodded. “I don’t want it to turn bad ‘cause of me.”

“Aw, honey...” Mr Taako started telling stories. Stories about all of his bad choices. About the people he had thought he had love with in the past. The liars, the deceivers, the poisoner who he had once trusted... The manipulators, the ransomers, the controllers... Mr Taako had seen every form of sour love that there was to exist. “So you see... I know what sour looks like.”

Angus sniffled and said, “Yessir...”

“So can you trust me when I tell you that Krav and I are not going sour any time soon?”

A shuddering, steadying breath. “Yessir.”

“Good,” Mr Taako kept stroking Angus’ hair. “Now the bad news. Dinner is a vegetable stir fry because I already cooked that. I can let’cha have a sweet tea to wash it down, though. Good?”

Angus nodded.

“Good.”

Mr Taako held him until the shuddering sadness was over, then let Angus up to have a late dinner and a soothing, sweet tea. By the time he was done, Mr Kravitz was back and hurrying to eat Mr Taako’s good food so he could have time to hold Angus and Mr Taako and read a story.

Angus didn’t make it all the way through the chapter. Falling asleep in someone’s arms was a nice feeling all the same.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae asked:
> 
> If I could request some Baby Ango Angst, Kravitz gets home mad after a bad day at work and Angus is scared he'll take it out on him.

Angus knew every single way that people could be angry. Angry people could be loud, they could be quiet, they could cuss a blue streak, or they could be stony-faced. There was always a look. There was always that certain something. Call it an aura, call it a sixth sense. Angus had seen every single way people could be angry, and it always ended in his own pain. Fore every slammed door, thrown object, and heavy footfall, a hand had flown his way.

So when a Reaper came through a tear in reality with his jaw set firm and that look on his otherwise handsome features, Angus braced himself. Instantly curling into a ball and waiting for the inevitable blows to stop.

"Queen _damn_ them all to the deepest hells!"

Angus flinched in place. Tried not to make a sound. It'd happen anyway. It always happened anyway.

"I hate them, I hate them, I _hate_ them _so_ much!" The hat-stand wobbled as Mr Kravitz flung his cloak at it.

Angus tensed. When was it going to happen?

"Bad enough they have to mess with the natural order, but _children? Babies?"_

Mr Taako said, "Krav..." in the softest and gentlest tone.

"If I could find them before they started, I'd--"

Silence was the worst. Silence and waiting and holding his breath and waiting and just wanting to be over and waiting and praying it would never start and _waiting..._

The first touch, that of a soft and careful caress, set Angus to screaming.

There were no harsh blows. Not with an open hand, nor a fist, nor any kind of object. Just a gentle, slightly cold hand, repeatedly caressing him until Angus realised that no such thing was going to happen at all.

_It could still be a bait and switch. One had done that. And Nurse Coxsackie said they had gone to the gallows for it..._ Angus started sobbing because he didn't want Mr Taako or Mr Kravitz to go to the gallows.

"I'm sorry, Angus," cooed Mr Kravitz. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. It's okay? Do you want a hug?"

Mr Taako was nearby. "If you want a place to hide in, there's a small cote the cats usually nest in," he offered. "Just right for one kid and the grownup of choice." His hands were warmer, and always smelled of flowers and whatever he had been cooking most recently. He'd done another batch of his fortifying cupcakes. "That is, if you want company."

Angus quickly wiped his eyes and risked a peek. They weren't angry any more. Not Mr Kravitz, and Mr Taako hardly ever got angry. Their faces were worried. Concerned. He risked a cautious uncurl and the trembling words, "...ango sammich?" He only relaxed when he was scooped up between two parental bodies, four arms wrapped around him. Mr Taako's soft, reassuring purrs on one side and Mr Kravitz's gentle hum on the other.

"I was mad about something at work," said Mr Kravitz. "So I was letting all that anger out with my words, Angus."

Mr Taako said, "It's okay to get angry about things. It's never okay to take that anger out on anything or anyone that doesn't deserve it."

Mr Kravitz added, "I'd never do that. Never to a child. Never to anyone."

It felt right. It felt good. It felt _real._ Angus leaned into the hug. This was only his third weekly stay-over, and he could maybe begin to believe that this was going to _stay_ real. The few tears that got loose now were happy ones.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae asked:
> 
> How 'bout Young Angus Verse with a dash of Autistic!Angus, Taako notices his boy hasn't been stiming much lately and has to resist the urge to murder someone at a PTA meeting when he finds out some of the teachers have been using "Quiet Hands".

"Listen," said Taako. "I'm concerned that something at school might be bothering my ba--" he corrected himself a tiny bit too late, "Angus. He's been... I don't wanna say 'depresed' because he's fine after an hour when he gets home? But... during that hour? I guess the word might be... repressed."

The teachers, still in awe that one of the Seven Birds had manifested in their meetings, all stared. Finally, the spokestutor cleared a throat and said, "How do you mean, 'repressed'."

"It might not be the correct term," Taako said, holding Angus close. His boy was quiet in body and voice, here. "He doesn't express himself as freely as he does normally. I don't get to see his happy hands so much. It's worrying. Is someone picking on him at school? In the playground?"

Light dawned behind five pairs of eyes. The spokestutor smiled as if Taako had said something embarrassing. "Oh, we prefer Quiet Hands, here."

After an announcement like that, thunder should have clapped and lightning should have lit the sky. Alas, it was a bright, clear, sunny day. As it was, Taako's mismatched eyes narrowed dangerously. "You really think limiting a child's expression is the way to go, here? What next? Dictating how they dress? Oh. Wait. You already did that," Taako dipped into his bag and brought out some stapled-together papers. "Care to explain to me why the girls get two pages on what not to wear and the boys get two sentences?"

"We're trying to provide a supportive learning environment here," said the spokestutor.

"And you're doing this by restricting kids' methods of expression?"

One of the other teachers spoke. "Some of the young ladies have no idea how revealing their clothing choices are. They're distracting to the boys."

_Only the hetero ones, maybe,_ thought Taako. Out loud, he said, "Ango? Have any of the girls been distracting?"

Angus shook his head.

"Heard anyone else complain about being distracted?"

Another head-shake.

Taako faced the array of teachers. "Who's been complaining?"

"Er," said the spokestutor. "Lots of people?"

"Like...?" prompted Taako. "Cut the horseshit. I know it's the male teachers. It's almost always the male teachers. Who can't handle a child dressing for the heat, huh? Maybe you should step outta the kitchen if you're so _distracted."_

Some looked away. One blushed. A hit, a palpable hit. "Back to the 'quiet hands' issue," Taako breezed. "Does Angus hurt anyone when he stims?"

"He hasn't done it yet," allowed the spokestutor. "We're simply trying to prevent a potential incident."

"I know fucking well that my boy doesn't stim any further than an inch from his tiny, tiny body," snarled Taako. "How could that _possibly_ lead to an incident?"

"He could knock something over..."

"The other children could see and mock--"

Taako cut that one off with, "So how's that anti-bullying policy that you sold us on doing?"

Only now did they realise that they were sinking, and all their efforts were just digging them deeper. Their faces were falling further and faster than their hopes of a contribution and endorsement from one of the Seven Birds.

"So. You don't understand Autism and Autistic expression. You repress his happy hands and damage his expressive freedom. You can't enforce the anti-bullying policy that you were so eager to sell to my husband, and an even half of the male teachers can't keep their eyes off of -shall we say- green apples?"

"That's a rather unfair way of putting it," mumbled the spokestutor.

"It's a rather blunt way of putting it," said Taako. "I don't have a single reason to keep my boy in your school, and I _certainly_ don't have any reason to keep quiet about it."

Now they were realising how deep they were in the shit. "There's no need--"

"Our reputation will be ruined!"

"Please, think about the other children who attend..."

"I _am,"_ said Taako. "I'm thinking about every kid who's punished for stimming. I'm thinking about every kid who has some skanky-ass grownups' leering eyes on them in class or out. I'm thinking about every child who has no safety to turn to when some asshole decides to give them a pile of shit for existing. I'm thinking about every kid who has to go through this hellhole believing that this is all somehow _okay."_ They all flinched at that word. "I already rescued Angus from one controlling pit of despair. He doesn't need a second one calling itself an educational establishment."

"Think of the future," they pleaded. "When Angus gets out into the real world--"

"He's already in the real world," snapped Taako. "It's a lot kinder than you pack of numbskulls." Angus had crawled into his lap and Taako said, "It's okay, pumpkin. You don't have to come back here again. We're going to find a better school than this one. I promise." Without a further word to the teachers, Taako stood with his boy in his arms, cut the teachers dead, and strode out of the place.

The next school, he was going to make certain they interviewed a truly random selection of students.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Please give me a sweet fluffy fic where Angus has a good day and plays Minecraft or something with the other idiots because your previous few stories fill me with angst (and I love it)
> 
> [AN: This is resulting from a private chat where we speculated about Ango’s gaming habits. Sweet fluffy Young Ango fic ahoy]

Sky. The sun was a square, and so was the moon, far below. Taako blinked, and the world was made of cubes that were seemingly made of smaller squares. Standing across from him was a humanoid figure made out of squares and rectangular prisms, that only vaguely looked like his little Angel. Except they were the same height.

The mountains were made of cubes. The trees were made of cubes. Even the animals were blocky. The plants were... weirdly flat.

“Sweetie?” said Taako. “What the fuck?”

“This is Fantasy Minecraft, sir. A virtual experience in a tetrahedral world.”

“Explain that to me again like I’m a kid your actual age, please?”

Ango giggled. “Everything’s made of blocks, Papa. We get materials, make things with them, and build stuff.”

Taako felt vaguely disappointed. “That’s it?”

Another blocky humanoid figure popped in. All black, with a skull instead of a face. Well. A skull made of squares. They stood very still for a moment and then looked around. “What... is this?” said Krav’s voice.

“Hi, babe,” cooed Taako. “World’s made of cubes. Can you dig it?”

“We’ll be doing a lot of digging, Papa,” said Ango. “But first, let’s go over the controls.”

It was a very educational handful of hours, in which Taako and Krav learned how to punch trees, make certain tools, then use those tools to break and gather other blocks.

Krav, a few millennia older than anyone else, repeatedly failed to understand anything. “Why’s my scythe called a ‘hoe’?”

“It  _is_  a hoe, sir. Use it on the ground to make ploughed ground.”

“It just turned back into dirt!”

“That’s because you have to plough within four blocks of water, sir.”

“It’s not working, love...”

“Da-a-a-ad... you’re trying to plough  _sand!”_

Taako, meanwhile, had discovered that he could knock down grass, and was in the process of discovering that the blocky chickens wanted the seeds in his hand. “Someone get these fucking ducks away from me!”

Krav gave up on trying to plough the sand and attempted to reap some chickens. “I’ll save you, my Dove.”

“Papa... Da-a-ad... It’s okay. Chickens are harmless.”

There was some raucous squawking, puffs of smoke, and scattered chicken meat and feathers. 

“Your toime ‘as come, miscreants,” said Krav. “Oi. Where’d me scythe go?”

Ango could have helped. Theoretically. He was far too busy laughing his little seven-year-old lungs out. “Oh my gosh,” he kept repeating.

They would later learn that they were lucky they were playing on Peaceful.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I just want to learn more about the Sellsnows. Maybe Angus asked questions (a young Angus doing a school project or post-canon Angus being curious as to why the giant tree house)?

It was a lazy, rainy day. The school holidays were past the initial excitement phase and into the boredom phase. Especially on lazy days like this one.

They were a family tangle. Cats and parents and child, all laying around in a cote and intermittently napping. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup were taking turns napping and reading. Cats leaned on people and occasionally groomed them.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“Why’s this place called Sellsnow Farm, but you’re called Taako Taaco?”

“I’m descended from the Sellsnows, but on my mother’s side. Never learned my father’s surname, so... Didn’t have a last name for quite a while.”

Aunty Lup took a deep breath and said, “The surname we’ve got is a Clerical Error. They asked him his name, he said Taako. They said, ‘and your first name?’“

“It was too late by then. They spelled it with a C instead of a K, so Lup and I were permanently in the books as Lup and Taako Taaco.”

“So glad to be a Bluejeans,” Aunty Lup yawned. “No more horseshit.”

“So... how did they get the name Sellsnow? And why is the house a tree?”

“Tree  _and_  burrow,” Taako corrected. “That’s an extended history lesson.” He yawned and stretched. “A long,  _long_  time ago, Elves were the first intelligent people in the world.”

“If you listen to Elves,” added Aunty Lup. “Loads of others reckon they were first.” She stretched and sat up from leaning on Uncle Barry. “The brief part of it was that the Elves got arrogant and became enormous pains in the butt.”

Angus giggled.

“That naturally lead to a period of persecution,” said Dad from his apparent coma. “Lots of races chasing after Elves and hunting them down. They developed a lot of stealth techniques as a direct result.”

“That’s why you get Cloaks of Elven Kind that help you with your stealth,” said Uncle Barry. “And why you get Mountain Ygdrasi trees.”

“Arcane-altered arborea,” said Dad. “They can be shaped by Druids, Clerics, and the occasional Monk, I believe.”

“Might’a missed somebody,” said Aunty Lup. “Can’t be bothered remembering.”

“Sellsnow farms was like a fortress back in the early persecution age. Kind’a... a castle. There was enough room for a whole Elven village to hide in the warrens and wait out any besieging party,” said Papa. He moved just far enough to wrap himself around Angus. “With loads of passages so the kids and stuff can just nope out of there in safety.”

“They were dark times,” said Dad. “Lots of innocents on both sides.”

“Years passed and people didn’t need the defence,” said Aunt Lup. “The family stayed with it, but... the land wasn’t exactly fantastic for making food. The seasons were just a little too short.”

“Had to work as hard as possible to have enough to feed the families,” said Uncle Barry.

“Then Empanaada the First of Sellsnow realised that a valuable resource was literally falling out of the sky.”

“Snow,” Aunty Lup drawled. “They didn’t have imbued cold spells, so they needed ice to keep food and stuff cold and fresh. Snow, once packed, turns into ice. Ice... used to be worth twice its weight in gold.”

“Like... fifty years before you were born,” said Dad. “After that, they cracked the code for making Fantasy Refrigerators.”

“This farm fell into neglect before then,” Papa said. “Grampa Tostaada had a twin brother Taako. He was more into fame and fortune and his kids and grandkids were... uh...”

“Spoiled brats with an eye for profit and little else,” supplied Aunty Lup. “They took everything the farm did - including taking in travellers, and turned it into a profit.”

“This place did  _not_  do that well as a motel resort,” added Papa. “It sucked the soul out of the village and got way too commercial. Then all the fussy rich kids moved off because it got too big.”

“Couldn’t sustain it anyway,” Aunty Lup rearranged herself to lean on Papa. “We were long gone before then.”

“But we’re still Sellsnows. Same genes as the Tostaada who once lived here. All the old wards recognise us as family. Bonus, right?”

Angus put a mark in his book and curled up in his Papa’s arms. “It’s super nice,” he sighed. “Papa?”

“Mm-hm?”

“C’n you teach me how t’ make the best fried catfish?”

Papa chuckled. “Only if you help me catch the fish.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Prompt: Ango McDango and dads go shopping for pastel outfits because Ango + pastel butters my croissants and gives me hope

By the third home visit, Angus felt a little more confident about Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz meaning the things they said. Especially when it came to choosing his clothes. Their first shopping trip had arranged one ensemble and one set of pyjamas, that were still there and waiting for him by the second home visit. Further, Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz let him pick out another outfit to wear if he wanted one.

Which was still there today, for his first week with his potential parents.  _This_  time, the destination was not Fantasy Costco, but a rather more extensive clothing establishment with every possible fashion choice for every possible size from Kobold to Gargantuan.

“Seven days, seven outfits,” said Mr Taako. “Anything you like, and they’re guaranteed to have it in your size. Anything you want, pumpkin.  _Anything.”_

Mr Kravitz folded the handle of a pull-along basket into Angus’ hand. “You can mix and match if you like. There’s no such thing as a bad choice.”

They had never uttered the phrase, “Are you sure?” when he was picking out stuff before. They asked, “You like that one?” and accepted his answer. 

Angus avoided the racks containing over fifty shades of grey. He had had enough of grey in the orphanage. The bright colours dazzled his eye a little too strongly and he didn’t want to wear all black like Mr Kravitz did. Therefore, the improbable alternative was pastels. As he approached the display, the default human mannequin shifted to become a mannequin Angus, replete with matching skin tone, showing off the best-selling ensembles including dresses and skirts.

Angus blushed. The orphanage had Views about clothing non-options according to gender.

Mr Taako leaned down to whisper in his ear,  _“Anything_  you want. No judgements here.” As if to prove his point, he reached out and grabbed a flowy, flower-patterned dress with frilly overhangs and draped it against his own body. “This would look sweet for the summer heatwave...” Then he draped it against Mr Kravitz. “Oh yeah, babe.”

Mr Kravitz smiled warmly and said, “Dove... this is for Angus, not for us.”

“Who says we can’t all have some fun?” scoffed Mr Taako. “Let’s enable our little lad. Come on.”

Angus still feared the watchful eye and the sharp tongues of the nurses and the staff of the orphanage. As if they were following his every move once he was past the severe iron bars of the institute’s fences. Thus, he edged carefully closer to the racks of pastel blue. Still a boy colour, even if it was a  _baby_  boy colour.

No lightning, jeers, nor vengeful figures of wrath descended on him from above, behind, or anywhere. He picked up a pair of pastel short pants, and the display showed him a myriad of garments that could go with.

He put it back before Mr Taako could ask the question. He didn’t like it. He picked it because he was  _supposed_  to. The next garment almost leaped into his hand. A pair of culottes. Pleated and swishy and with a nice, smooth feel under his hands. They looked real nice on the Angus mannequin, too.

Realisation dawned that he didn’t  _have_  to pick blue, either. He replaced it with a pastel teal coloured one, then a green one, then a powder orange.

“Like that one?” said Mr Kravitz. He was wearing a pale blue, floor-length gown, now.

Angus found the courage to speak. “...’essir.” Just... not very loud.

Mr Taako had found a fountain of frills in a rainbow of colours and was swishing around in it to make the frills flare out. “I think this baby needs glitter, how about you?” he said.

“Babe,” chided Mr Kravitz. “You already have three of those in different colours...”

Mr Taako struck a pose. “What’s wrong with having four?”

Angus let the interplay go on while he looked at the matches for the culottes. The gods of vengeance and destruction failed to appear when he picked out a frilly shirt with slashed sleeves, either.

He spent half an hour playing with a dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins that all flipped to a glittering black, but he didn’t end up putting it in his basket. He preferred to move on to other things.

Having seen Mr Taako lounging around in footie pyjamas, he had to at least look at them and see if he really liked them. So far, he was comfortable in the enormous and soft giant T-shirt, but now that he’d seen Mr Taako being comfy in a set, he had to look.

Too tight, when he tried a set on. Not his thing.

There was no judgement from his rejection, either. No cries for him to hurry up. No disparaging remarks about his ability or lack thereof to make up his mind. Just Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz in different, pastel-coloured outfits as the day progressed.

Angus finally reached a count of seven, and didn’t protest as Mr Taako threw in another multipack of underwear. He did protest when he saw the rainbow mermaid sequin dress come  _out_  of the basket and join the rest of the clothes on the way to the checkout.

“I- I didn’t... I didn’t pick that, sir?”

“Want we should put it back?” offered Taako. “I saw you playing with it, I thought you liked it?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Because he did like it. It was just... “...dunno if I’m brave enough t’ wear it,” he mumbled.

“You can still play with it even if you don’t wanna wear it yet. Everything in here is charmed with Good Fit,” Taako breezed. “How d’you think Krav and I had so much fun with the merchandise?”

Mr Kravitz added, “It’s okay to want clothes and never be bold enough to wear them. So I’m told.”

“I have entire closets of clothes I’ve never worn,” added Mr Taako. “Don’t mind if ya wanna play with ‘em bee tee dubs. It’s half the fun.”

Angus did that, but always made sure he had ‘proper’ clothing on when he did. He could get braver. Eventually. Just... not this week.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request Taako teach Angus how to build a cote? Papa teaching his baby how to make his first nest? I felt like it'd be pretty cute. Or Teen Ango getting into his first fight at school? He's a young half elf, but everyones buttons get pushed now and again. Thank you so much for reading this, and I appreciate your work!

Angus had no idea how it happened, but he woke up in the middle of some scrubby forest with no idea where he was or how to get home. He was in a very comfy sleeping bag and Papa was lounging nearby.

“Morning, pumpkin,” he cooed. “It’s survival lesson time.”

He sat up. There was no sign of any other camping gear. “What?” he mumbled. “What’s going on?”

“Every child should learn how to make it if the worst happens. Honestly, with all the folderol with adoption, I was kind’a scared to start. Still am, tee bee haitch, but I can’t let any kid of mine wander this wild world without at least a few basics.”

Angus rubbed his eyes. “Really?”

“We survived a raid on my village and then a raid on the survivors’ caravan, sweetie. If we hadn’t had lessons like this, we would have died at age twelve. Lucky for you we didn’t. Someday, all this will be lucky for someone else.”

Well. Put it like that way. Papa knew for certain that life had ways of throwing mud at you at the worst possible time. Therefore, he paid attention. There were worse things in life than being in a shitty orphanage. “What’s lesson one, Papa?”

“Priorities,” was the answer. “Food, water, shelter. What do you look for first?”

It was a day of lessons. Those very priorities were in the order of water, shelter, then food. Followed by a near encyclopaedic knowledge of which wild foods were edible more than once. As the sun began to dip down in the sky, Papa showed him the Shelter part of the survival trinity. How to build a cote.

“If you can’t find an abandoned badger burrow or a cave, building a cote is your next best thing. These are temporary shelters, here, so you don’t wanna be too elaborate. Start with a tree where you can move some branches around. Make it tricky for any predators.”

It was weaving, in a way. Weaving the living branches into a sort of skeleton for any uprooted saplings or long reeds or tall grasses they managed to find. The real trick was thinning out the brush without picking an area clean. That sort of thing would lead the  _intelligent_  predators to realise that someone was nearby.

The best cote, of course, was one that was tricky to get into. If it was tricky for the Elf - or half-elf - who made it, then it would be even trickier for anyone out after them. The green brush used to make it would be near perfect camouflage in a dense enough tree, especially if it was high up in the canopy.

Papa helped him make a cote just big enough for two, and showed him how to make a door to seal it off. By that time, it was well past dark, and their use of magic added tiny lights to the interior.

For a structure made of bent branches, saplings, and grass, it was astonishingly comfortable. Angus slid into a meditative trance knowing that his Papa was watching over him.

Lesson two, the next morning, was learning how to find civilisation. That was how Angus learned that their impromptu camp site was an extensive vacant lot within half a days’ walk of the farmhouse.

Where Dad was waiting with a celebratory feast, Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry.

“No probs, dingus?” Aunt Lup shouted.

“Of course not, goofus,” Papa shouted back. “He’s a fucking  _genius.”_

It had never occurred to Angus that Papa could have possibly been worried. Not until that moment. The concept was re-enforced when Aunt Lup gave Papa a noogie and said, “I  _told_  you he’d be fine.”

Dad had been worried, too. Angus could tell by the way Dad swept him up and covered him in kisses and said how proud he was. They’d both been worried about the absolute worst that could happen. Neither of them said so, but Angus could tell.

They’d be less worried, next time. With every lesson, there would be less and less to worry about.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueenKara671 requested:  
> Angus is really smart, right? But I head canon that he has a lot of trouble with math, so is it okay if you write a chapter where he's having trouble and asks Taako for help but they can't solve it so they ask Kravitz and none of them can solve it and it's just hilarious? You don't have to but I thought it would be cute.

"Sir, I don't understand this problem," said Angus.

Taako deliberately refrained from wincing at the  _sir._ His boy only called his adopted parents that when he was scared of being abandoned owing to a now-obvious flaw. "Let's have a look at it, sweetie."

At the top of the page was,  _Solve this pair of simultaneous equations using the method of elimination._ And slightly underneath:  _4m - n = 6_ and _3m +2n = -1._

"Babe, I can't even understand the question," he said. "Is there a book?"

Angus' relief was visible, he placed the page down and ran to get the book. The returning instructions were no clearer than mud.

"Wait. We add the  _equations_ together? The hell is this? Lemme have a crack at it the old fashioned way." By which he meant the Tosun way. He could recognise each equation as a partial quadratic.  _4m - n - 6 = 0_ and  _3m +2n +1 = 0._

Half an hour later, he had three pages full of transformations and no clear answer.

"I don't think this is what we're supposed to be doing, sir."

"I used to do multiplanar math, this should be sugar cookies." And worse, he still wasn't getting an agreement on any given solution.

"They say we have to add the equations, sir. Like this whole one plus that whole one."

"Still doesn't get rid of the N," grumbled Taako. He was tetchy at this thing. Angus was scared, the poor little angel. "Let's take a break for cookie dough and hot chocolate and a chill-out with the cats."

_"Yes, please,"_ sobbed Angus. "This is heartbreaking."

"Honesty with emotions means you choose the flavour," Taako chirped.

Just as Angus said, "All the chocolates, sir, with chips." Krav tore into the prime physical plane.

"Sweetened cocoa butter?[1]

"That, too. Thank you."

Krav surveyed the wreckage on the coffee table. "What the heck is this?"

"A spell of confounding masquerading as math homework," said Taako. "We're taking a sugar break from sheer exasperation."

Krav peered at the instructions. He peered at the question. He squinted at them both. "You sure this isn't a diabolical attack of some kind?"

Taako had the step-stool around by his side so he could co-incidentally hug Ango while they were making cookie dough together. "Why we're takin' a sugar break, babe."

Krav couldn't resist the challenge. He got more paper and his own pencil. "Let's take a crack at this beastie..."

Taako let him scratch at the paper while he and Ango busied themselves with cookie dough and hot chocolate. Neapolitan and Caleb on their laps and dough to eat and luxurious hot chocolate to drink soothed their tattered spirits.

The third cup and a share of the dough waited for Krav to scatter the papers in the air and shout, "Damnit!" Krav joined them at the table, grateful for the hot chocolate and cookie dough. "Thanks, babe."

"No prob, Bob. I used to do multiplanar math. If this confounds me, it's gotta confound a two-thousand-year-old bard."

Barry wandered down from his nerd stuff. "Please tell me I didn't miss whatever you had cookin'?"

"M'kay," said Taako. "I can get a fresh batch goin' for you an' Lulu."

Barry cracked his knuckles and hunkered down by exhibit A. "I love a challenge." It took him half an hour to start muttering, "What the fuck?" in various tones as he progressed through page after page of paper. Lup wandered down halfway through this and joined him in attempting to crack the code.

"How the hell is that supposed to eliminate anything?"

"Can't treat it like a quadratic..."

"How the fuck are we supposed to get rid of that N?"

"What language are these instructions written in? Could it be a code?"

Two hours later, the entire immediate family were eating cookie dough, supping hot chocolate, petting cats, and stewing in mildly suppressed fury.

"There's nothing like the next generation of math to make the last generations of mathematicians  _bloody furious..."_ seethed Barry.

Angus had cried himself out. "You're not mad at me?"

Taako said, "No, pumpkin. If three out of seven multidimensional geniuses can't get it, it's too tough for your little baby noggin."

"We're mad at your teacher for assigning it," said Krav. "There's going to be words."

"Conciliatory pizza night?" suggested Lup.

"Sis, you read my fuckin' mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] White chocolate is neither white nor chocolate. Fight me.
> 
> [AN: Yes, that is an actual math problem that caused the entire family of nerds hours of consternation. The solution was to add one of the equations twice. The actual answer is m=1 and n=-2]


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Hey there friendo! Can I please get a tiny Ango being overstimulated in a situation (maybe a party or something) and his family (Starblaster family) being supportive and helping him out?

New school! New books! New clothes! New people! Loud noise everywhere, of course. People made noise. They made a  _lot_  of noise, especially on occasions like orientation day at Miller Academy.

He knew this in advance. He thought he was prepared.

But still the hubbub of chatter hammered at his ears. Still, the confusion of uniformed bodies dazzled his eyes. Still, the eternal clatter of footwear on tiled floors vibrated his very bones.

And there was a black cloak around him and the cool touch of Mr Kravitz’s skin on his cheek. “Deep breaths, Chickie,” he cooed. “Need some green?”

Mr Taako was there, much warmer and soothing his hair. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“...loud,” he said. “Green please.”

The three of them made their way to the nearest small garden. Miller Academy catered to many kinds of genius and recognised the need for little courtyards full of green, growing things. This enclave had an abundance of feathery ferns and soft mosses to cover the ground. There was also a sort of wicker basket chair that his parents plopped him into like a prince into a throne. Papa at his left hand and Dad at his right.

“Deep breaths, baby,” said Papa. “I’m gonna call Aunty Lup and get her to bring your teachers over here, one at a time.”

“It’s not going to be like this all the time,” soothed Dad. “You’re going to be okay, Chick. Breathe with me.”

It was easy, now that they were in a space that felt safer, was less loud, and had a deep calm to it. He could focus on his breaths. Centre himself with the help of the wickerwork basket of a chair, and its inherent, subtle creaking.

“Lulu’s got this,” Papa returned to kneeling on the moss. “Need a hug?”

Angus lunged into his Papa’s arms. His bracelets jingled as they wrapped around him. He let his world be Papa’s perfume and the soft texture of his clothes and the silky softness of his hair and the warmth of his skin.

Somewhere outside of the world that was Papa, Dad said, “Want some Calm Emotion?”

Angus shook his head. This place and the comfort of his parents was good enough to defuse the rising tension caused by the hubbub of the halls. Two more breaths and he was able to stop his shaking.

By that time, the first of his teachers had arrived in Aunty Lup’s tow. A kind-faced half-Elf woman with skin almost as dark as Dad’s.

“Hi there, Angus,” she singsonged. “Orientation’s a big noise, huh?”

Angus let himself relax into Papa’s lap. “It’s good, now. My family knows how to help me.”

“We’re prepared for this sort of thing,” assured the teacher, who introduced herself as Miss Terkiish. “No more than ten students per classroom, easy courtyard access and soft rooms if the need arises.”

“According to the hall monitors, things should be going quieter in about ten minutes,” said Aunty Lup. “We can time the rest of the tour for the lulls in noise.”

Angus felt safe enough to say, “That sounds like a great idea. Thank you.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Taz prompt: Angus gets bullied at school, but hides it from Taako because he’s scared about him over reacting.

Angus stabled the deer he’d ridden and crept through the less obvious corridors of the farmhouse to his room. He needed his sanctuary right about now. Just a few minutes to breathe where nobody could  _get_  to him. Just time enough to centre himself. That was all he needed.

The smell of the old tree almost instantly soothed him. He nearly burst out in tears at the smell of Taako’s cooking, down in the big kitchen. One of his Welcome-home extravaganzas with all of Angus’ favourites and mood-boosters in the mix. Of course, too much for one small boy, two parents, and an aunt and uncle to devour alone, so friends of the family would be invited for an instant party.

Some of those friends had kids who also went to Miller Academy. Kids who knew  _everything._  Every little detail of every embarrassing thing that nobody could shut up about whenever he was in earshot.

Angus could just imagine what that party would turn into. It made him feel so very not hungry. Which was bad. He knew that intellectually. He also knew that he hadn’t been eating much at Miller’s either.

Angus didn’t want another caring lecture about proper nutrition from Taako. Especially not in front of anyone he went to school with. That sort of thing would spread like wildfire. He wouldn’t ever stop hearing it in mocking voice from anyone and everyone.

He huddled up on his bed, clutching at his stomach. He didn’t want this to happen, he didn’t want to feel sick, he didn’t want to dread the news of today and tonight reaching the Miller’s gossip mill. Yet... here he was, doing all of that.

Worse. Taako had  _noticed,_  and come upstairs. “Hey, boychick. Not feelin’ so good?”

Angus deduced that Taako had rolled high on his Perception and Investigation checks and was probably running an Insight check right now. Lying would be pointless, but he could still tell a very specific truth. “I don’t want a neighbourhood party tonight, sir.”

Shit. Fuck. He’d called Taako ‘sir’ instead of ‘Papa’. That was the deadest of dead give-aways. Now one of his adopted parentals  _knew_  that there was trouble.

Taako was the king of over-the-top reactions to literally everything. He would call down storms. If there was anything worse than being tormented, it was having a parent rescue you from being tormented.

That sort of thing  _never_  died down or went away.

“So who do you not want at the party?”

He was fishing. “Please don’t call down any wrath, sir...” Shit.  _Again._  He did it  _again._  “I couldn’t... I don’t... Please...”

Gentle hands ran through his hair. “Ango... Sweetheart... I’m not gonna do anything to anyone, I promise. I know how the pecking order goes in asshole schools. What’cha need is a means to get back at ‘em while looking completely innocent. So... who’s on your kill list?”

“I don’t want anyone killed!”

“Metaphor, metaphor. I promise.” Taako crossed his heart. “At least give me their usual routine.”

Explained at length, it didn’t sound as horrible as it felt, but it was what Taako referred to as making hag stones. One little drop of water didn’t do much, but dozens, day after day, year after year, could wear the heart out of anything. It had been a very hag-stone semester for Angus. Hour after hour, the concentrated effect of five drips had literally made him sick to think about it.

Papa Taako eased him through the episodes, using a little bit of magic, a little bit of comfort, and a lot of logic. Eventually, the beginnings of some plans hatched forth.

For now, not inviting them to the welcome-home bash was punishment enough.

For now.

Real justice, served at sub-zero temperatures, would happen later.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae asked:
> 
> Some shapeshifting creature disguised as Angus: Hello Sirs! :)  
> Taako almost immediately: THAT'S NOT MY BABY!

It had to be a particularly strong sleep spell, cast by some creature at Skull-level proficiency. Angus knew because Elves were naturally immune to sleep spells, and both he and Papa had fallen at least into a hazy daze. Angus couldn't even cry out when the unseen figures literally dragged him away from Papa.

Papa, similarly weak, could only raise his hand and mumble something incoherent. It was all there in his eyes. He was fighting it with everything he had, and that wasn't enough.

_My mother said I never should/ Play with the faeries in the wood..._

When city folk talk about fairies, they spell them with an I and think of tinkly little cherubs in tutus that grant wishes. Which only serves as a prime example of how bowdlerism can cause harm in the long run.

_Your hair won't curl and your shoes won't shine..._

Faeries are quite different to fairies. For a start, they're a lot more bloodthirsty and they never grant wishes. They take children, play with madmen, and create deals that seem simple but end in complications, and take things very _very_ literally whilst encouraging others to believe in the figurative version of the same words.

_Oh my dear, you won't be mine..._

At least when an Elf stole a baby, they had a vested interest in keeping the child alive. Faeries... they could do anything with a kid. They could make them dance until they collapsed. Feed them sweets until they withered away. Or simply trap them in a fantasy version of reality and eat their lives second by second. They could play games where death was one of the prizes, always on offer, always strived for, but never given. They could make a person suffer and suffer and _suffer_ and act like they should be grateful.

Faeries seemingly had a limited understanding of life on the prime material plane, mixing up fact and fiction. Mixing up metaphor with literality. Mixing everything up until it was nothing but a huge mess, then putting people in that mess, and watching what happened so they could laugh at it.

As soon as he had control of himself back, he would try to trick them. He would try to escape. But that, too, might be part of the game.

* * *

 

 

Taako had only spent a day ion the mortal realms before charging into the Faewild. One day to prepare. The Faeries could make that time be anything from two seconds to twenty years if they wanted to. Time was one of the many things they could manipulate. Time, space, the truth, reality... they were all playthings to the Fae.

Now he strode through the Faewild, True Sight cast on himself and Krav close behind with the ball of twine, carefully unspooling it. Together, none of the illusions of the Faewild could reach them. They headed unerringly towards the closest Fae court. Those with eyes to see would perceive cold rage boiling off of both of them like mist off a hot road in the rain. Those who did have eyes to see it left them a wide berth.

Those who did not... were about to be in a world of trouble.

Taako had his famous Umbrastaff. He had his KrEbStAr. He had an assortment of magical items in ready reach by his side and he also had a box.

Those Fae scouts sent out to see and report were truly _worried_ about the box. It could, for instance, contain anything at all. Judging by the wards surrounding it, it had to contain something _far worse_ than a rampaging Elf, his Reaper husband, and a metric shit-ton of heavily magical weaponry. Thus, the court was in something of a panic when Taako and Kravitz arrived.

"You got three seconds to give him back," Taako demanded.

The court appeared to cower, and one Fae pulled aside a curtain just as Taako's True Sight faded out. There, on the other side of the curtain, was the small boy in neat clothes who smiled as he saw them. Or at least, it seemed like that.

"Hello, sirs," said the apparently small boy.

Taako snarled, "THAT'S NOT MY BABY," and pulled open the box.

A man named Schroedinger once concocted a thought experiment in which a cat in a box could exist in one of two states: alive or dead. Later, a man named Pratchett conceived of the third potential state - bloody furious. Taako had managed to come up with a fourth:

High on catnip and ready to play to death with anything that moved.

The cat named Asshole emerged in a whirling ball of claws, teeth, and doom for Faekind. Faeries scattered to the four winds, including the one under the Glamour that made him look like Angus McDonald.

Kravitz turned skeletal so that he could narrow down the location of Angus' soul.

In less than twenty minutes, the Fae would be begging them to take Angus away. Not that they called him Angus. Their sweet baby boy had given them the name of Ainsel instead of giving them his own name. Such a good boy.

"Papa," Angus sighed, running for his arms.

Kravitz welcomed him too. "There's our boy. There's our beautiful magic boy..."

They decided to take Asshole back after the Fae started offering payments to do so.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Life kinda sucks currently and the panics are on the return! May I request some feel good family feeling things with Ango and Taako to chase them away? Thanks so much for taking the time to read this
> 
> [AN: Wishing you well in your battle with the panics. May your happies at least quiet the little beasties down]

Angus McDonald, age six and a half, woke before the alarm was about to go off and, just in time, reached out to silence its musical chime. Papa hadn’t even entertained getting him a mechanical alarm with its harsh and frightening bell. That sort of thing brought back too many bad memories and Papa understood.

That was one of the reasons why he was doing this. One amongst very many.

Glasses on (he had the freedom of vision whenever he wanted it) slippers on his feet and bathrobe over his pyjamas (no more cold floors leaching heat and sensation from his toes) and gathered his clothes for the day (he had a choice, no more grey, thinning clothing that did nothing against either the chill or the heat) and padded off to the bathroom to wash. No more rough treatment from Nurse Stronginthearm. No more tepid water that smelled of carbolic and pee. No more harsh scrubbing sponges. He could take his pick of soaps and washing instruments, he could linger and luxuriate in bathing if he wanted to. But he chose to be quick and efficient, this morning.

This morning was parents’ day.

Washed, dressed, and the bathroom tidied up, he crept down to the kitchen and started gathering tools an ingredients. Two cookbooks, one scroll copied from Fantasy Youtube, and some of his own notes.

He was going to make his parents some lava cakes for parents day.

Angus had to melt the chocolate in a double boiler since Papa wouldn’t touch a Fantasy Microwave with a Barge Pole of Reaching. That was okay. He knew how to do that. Even for two batches of ganache. One hazelnut praline for Papa, and the other dark chocolate blood orange for Dad

Once they were ready, he poured them into the ice cube containers and popped them into the freezer. While they were cooling, he washed up and got the cake moulds and batter ready.

That was from one of Papa’s best cake recipes. The Choc-o-licious cake. Working on  _that_  batter took all the time he needed to have for the ganache to freeze.

Problem. The Fantasy Youtube video hadn’t told him about greasing the ice cubes tray. It took some serious twisting and at least one count of taking a cube out of the tray in small fragments.

Papa always said to use the happy accidents. Therefore, he stirred the little frozen chips into the batter and hoped for the best. One Choc-o-licious with the hazelnut ganache. The other with the dark chocolate blood orange. All set carefully into the right place in the Aga for cakes.

So far, so good. Sort of.

Angus cleaned up and peeked into his parents’ cote. They were still snuggled under the covers. The dawn light had yet to creep into Papa’s eyes and force him into consciousness.

It was so tempting to just crawl in there for a small nap, but he had cakes in the oven. Therefore, he went back to the kitchen with one of his favourite Caleb Cleveland books, and nearly burned them.

Which was why he wasn’t thinking when he smelled burning. He ran to the oven and pulled the tray out without first putting on an oven mit. It burned! It fell. Hot cake mess spattered all over the place and then Papa blinked into the area.

He stepped on the hot tray and in boiling-hot lava cake to scoop him up and then hurried him to the nearest bathroom. Cool water soothed Angus’ hurts and a minor potion of healing solved all the injuries.

Angus was still crying. “Your feet. I hurt your feet.”

“I’m the one who stepped in the hot stuff, bubeleh.” He finally ran his own feet under the cool water and downed a potion of his own. “See? All better.” Papa scooped him into his arms and purred. Soft and gentle and reassuring.

Angus still felt bad about the cakes. “I wan’ed to surprise you with a cake each an’ I was makin’ you some special lava cakes and I almost burned them and I didn’t mean to hurt myself an’ I’m so sorry...”

Papa rocked him. “Hey. Hey, little man. Hey. Hey, listen. It’s okay. We all make mistakes. It’s fine.”

“It’s parent’s day,” Angus sniffled. “Wan’ed t’ do somethin’ special.”

“Hey,” said Dad, who came in to see what the fuss was about. “You know what’s more special than cakes in bed?”

Sniff. “What?”

“Cakes made together.”

Once all hurts were healed and the damage undone via Prestidigitation practice, Taako surveyed Angus’ plan. “Not some bad invention, there, little dude. Good job putting it all together like that.”

Angus started smiling again. “Really?”

“Yeah, you did some good detective work there.” Papa gave him a hug and a kiss. “Want to learn the best way to do a ganache?”

Cooking together with Papa and Dad was the best. Papa knew every trick about cooking good food and showed them to anyone willing to learn. Dad and Ango grouped together as apprentices.

They learned a lot that morning. Including that ganache lava was best with ice cream.

“Thanks for being my parents,” he said.

“Thanks for being our kid,” said Dad.

“Without you, we’d have no special occasion to have cake for,” added Papa.

After that, the best part of the day - snuggling with his parents for a lazy day in. All cuddles and kisses and comfort.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loyalshipper said:  
> A cute one shot would be Taako and Kravitz going on a date night type thing and leave little Angus with a babysitter (Lup and Barry, Magnus, even the Raven Queen) but he has an anxiety attack and they have to cut their night short right before they get into the meat and bones of the night but they don’t mind because they have the rest of their lives for date night so right now is making sure Angus knows he is lived and that he matters and it ends with a family cuddle.

Papa was all dressed up fancy. So was Dad. Angus couldn’t explain why this worried him, but the worry lay trembling under his heart nevertheless.

“It’s just tonight,” Papa was saying as he braided his hair. “There was quite the brawl to babysit you while your Dad and I are out.”

“Can’t I come?”

Papa sighed. “Baby... You know we love you. It’s just... We need to re-enforce our bonds with each other. A night where neither of us can pay all of our attention to each other.”

Angus knew about this. Sometimes, parents needed one night where they didn’t have to be parents. “And I’m not going back to the orphanage.”

“Hell, no, Ango. Naw. You got your Uncle and Aunty Bluejeans coming down, then there’s the Fangbattle Aunts and Uncle Magnus.”

Uncle Magnus almost always bought Mitzy with him. That sounded like it could be fun.

“All of them at once?”

“It was better than holding a raffle for the privilege of your company.” Papa pinned up his hair. “Dad and I have our Stones, and if you need us, we’re only a call away. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

It was easy to believe when they were home. Less so when they weren’t around. He had three Aunts and two Uncles watching over him and Mitzy to play with and that was enough to keep him distracted for a good two hours.

The third hour, when he and his Aunts and Uncles were cooking together, was when it hit him like a bully twice his weight class. Aunty Lup had her eyes the wrong way around. Everything was wrong. Everything was going wrong.

* * *

 

The call came before the mains, and they picked up instantly.

"Ango needs us?” came out of their mouths in stereo.

Taako dropped some gemstones on the table and Krav tore them a portal all the way back to their home.

Dinner didn’t matter. The night out was less important than their kid. Taako rolled badly on passing through the Astral plane on the way, but that didn’t matter either. He rolled and recovered before Krav could even offer a hand.

“Daddy! Papa!”

They landed on him in a hug, Taako already purring.

“It’s okay,” soothed Krav. “You’e okay.”

“I didn’t wanna wreck your night. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you needed us, kiddo. We can have a night out anytime.”

Lup, hovering nearby, said, “He called me ‘Papa’ like twice and then freaked out. I’m not upset about the confusion, sweetie, I promise. You’re okay.”

“I thought... I thought... I thought you were never coming back an’ I kept seeing you outta the corner of my eye an’ it was only Aunty Lup an’...”

He and Krav covered him in kisses. “It’s okay. We’re here, now,” they said, wrapping their little boy up in their arms.

They never saw their show, and their dinner was what the family had cooked up that night. They watched one amongst many of their collection of their moving scrolls.

The important part was that Ango had his family. That he knew they would be coming back. That he could be braver next time.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Are you still doing Little Angus prompts? Cause I’m kinda curious if Angus had any friends in the orphanage (adults or kids or otherwise) that he’d miss or want to visit.

It had taken Angus an entire year to talk freely to his dads. When he did, he expressed his worries about his one friend in the entire, dingy, dismal, depressing grey coldhouse that was the orphanage.

Her name was Agatha Tremaine and she was maybe a year older than him. She smuggled the outdoors inside for Angus, much to the horror of the nurses and the consternation of Mr Thud. They never could prove that she was the source of dandelion flowers, stick insects, or grasshoppers that managed to turn up in Angus McDonald’s presence and he never ratted her out, no matter how much time they made him sit in the Quiet Room.

This caused Papa some immediate concern, and the rest of the family some Stone calls. There were a lot of Stone calls.

There were more than a few moments when Angus feared he had done something wrong. A feeling that was quickly dispelled by one or more of his new family scooping him up into a reassuring hug.

Then came the Trip.

Papa and Dad and Aunty Lup and Uncle Barry all piled into the cart with him and Garyl took them on a whirlwind trip. But they weren’t taking a trip to Neverwinter.

Angus fought past his elective muteness. “Sirs. This isn’t the way to the orphanage...” He pointed the way they should have been going. “We’re headed the wrong way.”

“Right and wrong, baby,” said Papa. He wrapped an arm and part of hus ruiana around Angus. “Yes, this is not the way to the orphanage. But no, we are not headed the wrong way.”

“This is the way to the Aunties Fangbattles’ place...” said Angus.

“Correct again, little buddy,” said Dad.

“You said we were going to see Agatha.” Just like that, the pieces slotted into a bigger picture. “Did Agatha get adopted by my Aunties?”

Uncle Barry handed Aunty Lup five gold. She laughed and said, “I knew you were a smart little cookie, kiddo. You got it in one.”

The Aunties Fangbattle - also known as Team Sweet Flips - had a little country cottage with a neat little garden that always seemed to be full of flowers. Angus liked the times he got to stay with them because he could help out with the chickens and play with the butterflies and birds that were too bold to fly away from his careful touch. They always had warm bread or a gooey sweet pie fresh out of the oven.

This time, the cottage looked quiet and still. Even the birds refused to coo or call from the branches of the fruit trees. No butterflies spread their wings in the sunshine. Therefore he feared knocking on the door.

Dad did it instead.

Aunt Killian opened the door. “Oh great. You’re here.” She turned and called, “Agatha...”

There she was. Hiding under the table and clinging to furniture legs like a prisoner at the bars.

Angus was over there before he could blink. “Hey, remember me?”

Her dark eyes were fearful. “Angus? They said you died.”

He knew who ‘they’ were. The bigger kids. The mean ones. “You know they lie.”

She crawled out to hold him, and this was the first time Angus remembered being bigger than her. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I’m glad you got a family,” said Angus.

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, “That’s an Orc and a Dragonborn. They’d eat me if I fatten up...”

Angus detected the not-so-subtle influence of Them again. He joined her under the table and had a hushed conversation while the grownups talked grownup things literally over their heads.

“They’re careful with you, aren’t they?” he asked. “They’re not rough or mean.”

She had to agree.

“They’re kind, right? They try to make things right by you.”

Another nod.

“They keep making better food so you can have enough to eat?”

“They wanna fatten me up...”

Angus had to think his way around that one. “You know... if you’re strong, you can run off if they start measuring you for a basting pan.”

She snorted at that one. “I gotta admit their pies smell delicious.”

“So have some, pumpkin,” Papa had a small plate with a slice of rich, glistening pie and a fork. “This one’s one of my recipes, so you know it’s great.”

“Yeah, and it’s my herb and spice mix that makes it even better,” said Aunt Carey.

“Excuse your scaley ass, it’s the gravy recipe I got from  _my_  mother,” objected Aunt Killian.

Angus giggled. “Anyway. If they’re going to eat any kids, they’d be after my marbled flesh, not yours.”

Agatha relented, and started to eat without fear.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request Tiny Ango and Agatha being taken to the Cote by Taako for protection..but said Cote has been found by the invaders?( could be the orphanage people who run it ? Or others) I just really like the protective nature of it. Almost like reading it makes me feel safe too? Anyhow thank you for reading this

If there was any day that would be the worst one for a surprise inspection visit by the Fantasy CPS, it would have to be the day that Taako was sliding inexorably towards a full-on Luume rampage.

He was currently cooking everything in the kitchen whilst Angus, Agatha, and Carey flipped rapidly through reference material, desperately searching for something that would prevent Taako bonding with all the babies in the house. Carey and Killian liked Taako just fine, but not as a co-parent to their own daughter.

Both Orc and Dragonborn had rougher hides, and couldn’t finesse an Elf’s ‘off switch’ like an Elf or a Humanman could. The only other option was one of the children, and by the time he got near one, he would want to grab the other.

“Here it is,” Carey found the passage. “Co-parenting of a child by a more authoritative figure can prevent a parental bond forming in an Elf suffering luume’irma. This is it. One of us goes with and does most of the parenting stuff instead of letting Taako do it all.”

“Or I could just hide,” suggested Agatha.

“No, hon. He’d scent you out,” said Killian. “We’ve seen this sort of thing before. Unless Kravitz turns up to  _really_  distract Taako--”

“Gross,” said the kids.

“Yeah, we figured that wouldn’t be an option,” said Killian. “And I don’t wanna disinfect my kitchen again.”

“Babies eat,” singsonged Taako, bearing an overloaded platter of nutritious and delicious treats.

Someone knocked as they barged in. “Fantasy CPS inspection.”

Sniff? Snort. SNARL!

“Oh shit,” said Angus.

Taako quickly put the tray down and leaped over the couch to scoop up the kids, growling at the representative from the Fantasy CPS,  _and_  one of the staffers from the very orphanage both kids had come from.

If there was anything that was a worse threat to those children, it would be the slightest hint that they were going back to that horrible orphanage.

Taako lifted one kid in each arm, hissed defiance at the representatives for their alleged welfare, and bounded off towards the backyard, where he had built a cote some years prior.

“Agatha, go limp,” Angus advised.

“Luume?” said the Fantasy CPS representative.

“Luume,” said Carey, lifting up the tray. “I gotta go make sure he doesn’t adopt our kid. Okay?”

They let her go off with a wave of their hand.

Killian, attempting to remain calm, made tea. “So,” she said. “How does your organisation feel about moments of bad timing?

Meanwhile, up in the cote...

Taako sniffed at the entrance. Food. Friend? Friend. Yes. Let friend in. Babies scared. Babies hungry. Babies in danger.

“Bad people near,” he said.

“Ye-e-es,” cooed Carey-friend. “Bad people  _are_  near. This is the  _safe_  place. This is a  _good_  place.” She handed Taako a cake, and gave one to Agatha. “You feed your baby, I feed mine. Okay?” She urgently whispered, “Don’t let him feed you. Always look to me for that ‘kay?”

Agatha nodded, taking the cake from her Dragonborn mother’s hands.

Taako knew he could groom both babies, that was good. He could sniff and worry and guard. That was... allowed. He could feed his baby and keep him arm and comfortable and that was very good. He could purr up a storm for the three of them. And if he saw even the slightest hint of the dangerous outsiders, he would occupy the entrance and threaten them until they went away.

_That_  was  _excellent._

* * *

 

Agatha stayed glued to Mom’s lap or wrapped around her arm if a lap wasn’t available. The passages she read had said she had to make the belonging clear to a being whose mental capacity was diminished at best. Mom was cool with it, always keeping at least one limb wrapped around her.

The cote was comfortable, Agatha knew. She used it as a treehouse once or twice. The food was great - of course it was, Taako had made it. Much though she loved Mama Killian’s cooking, Taako was the best chef in one hundred worlds. He did actually make the best stuff. Even when Int and Wis were his current dump stats.

She got to chatter - quietly - with Angus about how their home lives were so much different now that they had a home. How worried they were about Fantasy CPS and the orphanage taking them back.

At that point, Taako wrapped himself around Angus and groomed him towards calm, purring as soothingly as he could. Mom Carey had her own Dragonborn purr, too, and rocked Agatha in her arms as she singsonged, “We burned the receipts, you can’t be returned, it’s going to be okay... Mom’s gotcha. Mo-om’s gotcha...”

Agatha held hands with Angus as the conversation turned to whispers. Finally, as the moon shone between the woven branches, Mama Killian strolled into their yard. “They’re gone. You’re all safe now.”

Taako sniffed the air, snorted, and murmured, “Danger...”

In the end, it was a sleepover and campout. Mama brought up pillows and blankets and some fairy lights, and snuggled with Mom while they both held Agatha safe between them.

Angus curled up safe in his Papa’s arm, with Taako purring in his ear.

It was a good night.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> It's been so long since Kravitz was alive. dead was simple, now he's got his elf husband and half elf son Ango. In a hilarious panic, a dawning moment of " I'm married.. and have a son" he reads some book about how to care for your elves. Hilarity begins here. ( if you don't mind that is, thank you!)

If there was anything Kravitz was certain of, it was two things. He loved Taako with a power beyond his comprehension... and he didn’t want to become his own father. Standing over the sleeping forms of his husband and adopted son just... cemented that into his soul.

He just had very few ideas how to do that. As in, at all. 

Kravitz had been dead for at least two thousand years, and he’d come from a fairly xenophobic culture to begin with. He only had the shakiest knowledge concerning Elves. For two thousand years, he’d only ever met individuals with a life expectancy of only a few more minutes past their introductions.

He hadn’t had to worry about caring for anyone for so long, that he had almost forgotten how to do it at all. Loving Taako was easy. That Elf had made Kravitz do more than feel alive. Taako could talk about what made him happy.

Angus, sweet little half-Elf still scared of speaking his mind... was not that comfortable with making his wants known.

Kravitz decided that he was willing to do anything to help his little family, so he went looking for something to give him more than a little bit of a clue. Which was what had him in one of the greater libraries still existent in Faerun, following the Hunger War.

He found a book, and judged it by the cover, which had  _How to Care for Elves_  on there in large, friendly letters. He purchased a copy and immediately portalled back to the home he shared with husband and child and got to studying.

_Elves have good reason to be paranoid. Large portions of their history include persecution from other races. Do not allow your Elf to be startled by Humans, Orcs, Dragonborn, Dwarves or Gnomes._

Okay. That explained Taako’s rule of Call First. Kravitz skipped ahead to the cookery section,  _Popular Elven Comforts._  There were some involved recipes in there, true, but the book said Elves had the time to complicate literally everything they did.

_The things I do for love..._

* * *

 

Taako stretched and yawned and smooched his little boy on the forehead. Something delicious was cooking and Taako let his nose lead him to...

Kravitz, with a plethora of scientific-looking equipment, measuring herbs against carob seeds.

It was so adorable that Taako had to watch him for a while. Finally, when Krav stopped to stretch his back and wipe his brow, he said, “What’cha doin’ there, handsome?”

“Um. Showing you I care?” He failed at hiding a thick book under a tea towel. “You already have a secure cote or five and all the safety you could eat, so...” He gestured at some of the completed dishes. “I thought I’d try for some proper Elven nutrition.”

Taako couldn’t not kiss him. Cooking, love, and a certain amount of exertion had made his man nice and warm. His kisses were always sweet. “Babe,” he said, “You know I love you...”

“But...” Kravitz prompted.

“What fucking book were you even  _reading?”_  Taako had to giggle. “Half of this shit is festival food, and the other half are jokes we played on the Humanmen, back in the day.” He found the book. “Oh boy.” Flip, flip, flip...  _“Oh_  boy. Oh  _boy._  Oh boy howdy...”

“Everything he knew was wrong?”

“Ninety percent,” said Taako. “That, and I’m literally from a different planet. Most of this don’t even fuckin’ count.”

Angus stumbled into the kitchen, following his nose. “Wow, sir. This is an amazing spread.”

“Everything sweet has been sweetened with honey or maple syrup,” said Kravitz. “I at least knew better than to use sugar.”

Taako still flipped through the pages. “You got a head start on this dude, Bone Daddy.”

Angus had selected something from the ‘joke’ section of the menu. He had half his little mouth full and was busily chewing. “I like this one, sir,” he managed.

“I know five ways to make it much quicker,” said Taako. “I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dove.”

“For the rest of today, though... I gotta show this book to Lup and Barold.” Of course he had to. They hadn’t had a decent Family Roast sesh in  _years._


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> are you still doing TAZ requests? if so would it be alright if I requested a Sick young Ango being cared for by Taako? It's been requested a lot in the past, but there's just something so sweet about it that I love. thank you for taking the time to read this!

[AN: First, I’d like to apologise for taking so dang long with this. It’s been a busy week]

Angus shivered in his bed and dreaded opening his eyes. He was cold and soaked and terrified that, if he could breathe in through his nose, he would smell someone else’s pee. It certainly felt like he was huddled in a bunch of lumps that wanted to dig holes in his skin.

He could hear jingling jewellery and someone singing. “Good morning, starshine, the earth says ‘hello’… you twinkle above…” the singer trailed off, and a too-hot hand seared into Angus’ forehead. “You’re not okay, little man.”

The shadow above him glittered and gleamed. He managed to focus on golden hair and dusky skin that was mottled like a fawn and sprinkled with gold. He wasn’t in the orphanage any more, but it sure felt like he was in an orphanage bed. “…hurts,” he croaked.

“Hmm…” said Papa, who scooped him out of bed and into a thick, fluffy dressing gown. “Looks like Summerfaire Sniffles, there, buddy. Caught something from someone durin’ the holiday.” Papa was comfortingly warm, whilst Angus felt like his entire body was a loose sack full of snot.

“…’m sorry, papa…”

“Not your fault, hon. ‘S why the schools give people a whole month off after Summerfaire. Get all the viruses outta the system before they can recirculate.”

“…’r you mad at me?”

“Naw… It’s nothing some soup won’t cure. Cream of chicken soup with ginger, garlic, and all the fixings. All your favourite ingredients.”

“…’m n’t h'ngry…”

Papa cooed and juggled him around as his Mage Hands filled a hot water bottle and wrapped it up. “We’ll find something to tempt those tastebuds later on, punkin. Anything you need, you’re getting. Just say the word.”

“…cuddl’s…”

“M’kay,” Papa curled up with him, the hot water bottle, and a lot of blankets (the cats came to nest on them later) on the big cuddle couch and turned the fantasy television on to something that required no brainpower to appreciate.

Dad looked in on them in an hour or two. “Everything all right, babe?”

“Summerfaire Sniffles,” said Papa. “Some fantasy tylenol, a lot of cuddles, and some chicken soup and we’ll be fine.”

Dad’s touch was a little chilly, but welcome all the same. “Nothing to worry about,” he said.

When he said it, you could be  _sure._


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LadyVin on Chapter 28 of Young Angus Anthology:  
> What if the tables are turned? Angus wakes up on his own one morning, finding Taako sick in bed and still asleep. Angus tries to take care of him the way Taako takes care of Angus on his sick days

Something was wrong. Angus could feel it before he opened his eyes. It was even why he opened his eyes. He could sense that something fundamental had gone wrong with his universe. He put on his glasses and put it all together.

Sun at the wrong angle, he had overslept.

House too quiet, and it was never completely quiet. There was the usual creaking of living wood and the distant rustle of wind in the boughs, but that was scarily  _it._

Worst of all, nothing was cooking... and Casa de Taako  _always_  had something cooking. Angus could even tell who was cooking by the signature elements. Garlic for Papa, hot spices for Aunt Lup, Buffalo Sauce for Uncle Barry, wine for Dad... none of that was in evidence. In fact, there was a distinct absence of evidence.

Angus shuffled into his slippers and slid a robe on, first visiting the nearest bathroom and then exploring the ominously quiet house.

The cats swarmed, meeping and yowling and howling that they hadn't been fed. Overacting their piteousness to make him wont to believe that they were on the very cusp of starving to death when he knew for a fact that they had all been fed the previous evening. Angus saw to their food bowls, water dishes and (euw) litter trays before proceeding.

Papa wasn't in the kitchen. He knew before he looked, but he checked anyway. Papa wasn't in the main living room. He wasn't in his best study, nor the (BIG swear)-off-do-not-disturb-I-mean-it study. He wasn't in the suites where Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry stayed.

Angus found him in the bedroom, tangled in sheets like a fly in a spider's web, splayed out like an accident and not looking that great. His hair was still bound in his evening braids and he was wearing a pair of Fantasy Boxers with a flying spatula pattern on them. He was still breathing, though he was burning hot to the touch.

Crusty, mismatched eyes opened, though it looked like it was a struggle. "...mmmnh?"

"Papa... are you going to be okay?"

"...mmmf..." Papa made the 'I dunno' noise. After a breath or three he croaked, "...s'ry b'by..."

Angus had a rough idea of what to do. After all, Papa had done similar things for him when he was sick. "It's going to be okay, Papa. I've got this."

"...nnngk," said Papa, and his eyes closed.

Angus wet a washcloth in cool water and left it folded on Papa's brow. Then he padded back down to the kitchen, where he got out a lot of stuff.

Chicken, and fending off the cats, check. Garlic, check. Ginger, check. Vegetables, check. Soup mix, check. Pressure cooker, check. Slow cooker, check. Angus was most careful with the sharp knives, and kept the house's Stone of Farspeech nearby in case he had to call emergency services. He was slow at it all, but that was okay. Beginners always started slow, it was the safest way to start. So Papa always said. And anyway, Papa needed rest to fight off whatever bug had decided to attack him.

Half the ingredients went into the pressure pot to cook quickly, the other half went into the slow cooker to cook slow. Whilst that was all warming up, he found the stepladder and located the Fantasy Tylenol. Two of those, a big glass of iced dandelion tea - one of the best Elven painkillers according to one of Papa's books - and a bowl of the finished soup and Papa would be on the mend.

So Angus hoped.

While he was waiting for the pressure pot to get done, he pondered who he could call. He wasn't supposed to be left without care. Dad only left when he had work, so he was out. Same with Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry. Angus was under strict instructions to never call Merle for anything, though Mavis had potential to be at least competent even if she was underaged. Uncle Davenport was out to sea and Uncle Magnus... he already had his hands full with his dog school. Stirring that into a houseload of cats plus one sick Elf was probably not the smartest idea. That left Mrs Hakniid, next door... or Madam Director Lucretia Clarke.

Both women were on Taako's never-call-ever list for different reasons. Angus had seen the dramatisations on the Fantasy Television, and heard the snarky muttering from his Dad, but he knew it was bad stuff. Madam Director had made Papa forget his own sister - practically most of his life, if you believed Papa. Whilst Mrs Hakniid was...  _Jason's_  mother, and it took a very special sort of person to raise someone like  _Jason_  and be proud of it.

Of the two, Angus figured that Papa could at least tolerate Madam Director babysitting his child. Papa barely trusted Mrs Hakniid with feeding his cats, and these were beasts who terrorised the local dire-catfish. There would be yelling, for sure, but none of that yelling would be  _at Angus._  He was just a very small boy doing his best.

The pressure pot started to hiss, so Angus took it off the heat and set a timer so the stuff inside could cool and normalise a little before serving.

That was the best time to call for help.

The Stone tones rang and rang and rang... and finally Madam Director picked up. "Taako, it's a little early for your shenanigans, so--"

"Ma'am, it's me, ma'am, sorry to interrupt, ma'am."

"Angus? What's going on?"

"Papa's sick."

"Is he saying that he's dying?"

"No, ma'am, he's been very quiet. I made some chi--"

"I'll be right over," she said, and ended the call.

Angus served a bowl of chicken soup - fending off the cats again - and brought it, the tea, and the Fantasy Tylenol to Papa's bedside. There, three of the cats decided to settle on Papa's bed while two more repeatedly tried to get under the protective cover Angus had wisely used over the tray.

"Papa? Papa I (shoo!) made you some (scat!) soup... and I got (psssst!) some medicine for you."

Papa coughed and the attempted thieves bolted for some hidey-holes. He opened his eyes and managed, "...there's my beau'ful baby boy..."

"I made soup, sir," Angus repeated, glad that the cats were discouraged. "And I know I shouldn't be unsupervised, so I called in a little help."

"...unsuper--" Papa winced. "...please tell me y' didn' call  _Susan..."_

"No, sir. I called Madam Director."

Papa hauled himself partially upright and mumbled something about anything being better than Mrs Hakniid. It was weird seeing Papa without any of his bangles or bells and only sleepers in his ears and none of his makeup. He moved like a much older man as he took his medicine and then supped at his soup. "Contest's over," he croaked, "I got the best baby in the world."

Angus said, "Do you need hugs, sir?"

"Eh, I prolly caught what you had last week," he managed. "Snuggle on in, punkin."

The world felt a lot safer when Papa's arms could protect him from it.

When Madam Director arrived, she found Angus reading  _Caleb Cleveland and the Pernicious Poison_  to his father, who intermittently napped during the performance. His only acknowledgement of her presence was a mumbled, "Frisk 'er for Voidfish," before he resumed his more usual slumber.


End file.
